


Survival 101

by Redclaire999



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, F/M, Fever Dreams, Fist Fights, Huddling For Warmth, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Mild Language, Minor Injuries, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 54,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redclaire999/pseuds/Redclaire999
Summary: ‘Bishop! Come on, wake up! Ellie? You’re scaring me now’ Nick strained against the knots cutting into his wrists.Was she even breathing?
Relationships: Ellie Bishop & Nick Torres, Ellie Bishop/Nick Torres
Comments: 225
Kudos: 269





	1. Expect the unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Another long one folks, several chapters! I'll update the tags as things pop up in the story!  
> Please feel free to comment, I love feedback!

Bishop.

Hers had been the first face he had seen when he was cornered in the alley his first day back in DC. Ok, Gibbs was the one barking at him, but it was her face that he couldn’t drag his eyes from in those initial tense minutes that first day.

Who was he kidding? That day and every day since!

But she was a mystery. She wasn’t like any other women he had ever met. She seemed open and friendly, kind and sweet, but his gut told him he was missing something about her and for the life of him he couldn’t figure it out.

Sure, she displayed her Oklahoma State football pendant, and photos of her big family sitting on the steps of an old-fashioned, homestead porch. Watching her at work, which even he admitted he did _a lot_ , she was industrious, a perfectionist, persistent, was off the chart smart, spoke god knows how many languages _and_ fluent nerd with McGee. He sometimes thought she was too compassionate for their dirty job but she had her own strength, resilience too.

She dressed conservatively and came across all strait-laced and genteel, but he had seen her in action. Over the months he had learned she could more than hold her own in a fight; she had a mean right hook, a painfully on-target knee and an amazing ability to shoot centre mass even under pressure.

Her contradictions intrigued him.

The months rolled on and Bishop became a trusted partner. That was new; he’d never had a partner before, he’d never really trusted anyone either. Now he couldn’t imagine being without her. They worked well together, she understood him in ways the other guys on the team didn’t. He learned that she was actually a lot of fun to hang out with and he felt a natural ease with her he had never felt with anyone.

Pretty soon she was his _favourite_ person to spend time with. She gave as good as she got in the teasing game between them, silly bets and dares stoked both their competitive sides. But his teasing had changed recently, these days it was nudging towards flirting, _he_ knew it…she seemed _oblivious_. That had never happened to him before, most women reacted in a predictable way to his charms, but not her.

Nick discovered early in their partnership that he had a near compulsive need to make Bishop laugh. In fact, it became his daily mission. Her laughter made his day, her face lit up when she did it and something lit up inside him too. He craved that sparkle; life was very dull when she wasn’t around.

He looked forward to every day they spent working together, they even hung out after work sometimes, just for takeout and a beer if a case ran late but it was …nice.

He had no idea when his fascination in Bishop slipped from attraction to really intense, strongly passionate, often confusing _feelings_. He would not use the ‘L’ word.

‘Hey Bishop, I guess it’s either pizza or cheeseburgers today, huh? We did my choice last time’.

‘I don’t mind, you choose, I’m not really hungry’ her voice had a faraway hint to it, thinking about it she had been distant all day. He had been rambling on about his new fitness plan and she had zoned-out, he hadn’t even got a groan from her. Something was off.

‘You feeling ok? It’s not the flu, is it? I hate being sick, please tell me you didn’t infect me when we kissed’ he deliberately goaded her, raising his eyebrows speculatively awaiting her comeback.

They had been following a suspect on a busy street downtown only an hour before when the dude stopped to talk to another guy. Nick had casually held her in a doorway as a delaying tactic, twirling a tendril of her soft, blonde hair between his fingers then leaned in some more to whisper in her ear, ‘you take the new guy and I’ll stay on our mark’, still planning out their surveillance.

He accidentally inhaled a lungful of her pretty floral body scent and had to work really hard on controlling his erratic breathing this up close and personal to her.

‘Um-hum’ she mumbled her face snuggling into his collar, playing along with the cover, running her hand around his waist, her small hands just skirting along his belt-line, causing him to almost stop breathing altogether.

Anyone looking on would think they were making out, apparently, his body thought the same. Thank god the suspects went off in separate directions. The cold hit his chest unexpectedly when she turned away and followed her mark, how long had they been standing so close?

A lifetime would never be enough.

‘ _Pretend_ kissed, Torres, our lips didn’t actually touch remember?’ she seemed at pains to stress that point, but it had been a close one, for him anyway. ‘No, I don’t have the flu…I’m just not very hungry’.

If it was one thing he knew about Bishop it was that she had to be fed regularly or she got all crabby. Her ever-active brain must have just burned through all the calories she put away because she was ridiculously petite.

Now he was worried; had his spur of the moment cover story maybe made her uncomfortable? He still forgot not everyone was cut out for undercover deception, especially the physical kind.

‘Ellie Bishop not hungry, wow! I’m going to mark that on my calendar’ he teased, hoping to lighten her mood.

When she squirmed uncomfortably as he glanced over to see if she was mad with him, a lightbulb flicked on. Calendar…maybe it was just time of the month?

‘Are you sure you’re ok? I could get you some chocolate maybe, a hot tea?’ he had a distant memory that his sister had sworn by candy when she was cramping.

‘I’m fine Nick, I’m going out for dinner is all, I don’t want to spoil my appetite’, she puffed out a sigh and fixated her attention on something out her passenger window.

‘Ooh, a hot Friday night date’ he laughed with forced bravado, and even though he had a date himself that night it still niggled him somehow that she had one too, with some _other_ man. ‘Who’s the lucky guy?’ He had no idea what her type even was, over the last while though he had started to wonder about it more and more.

‘It’s not like that Nick, so drop it ok?’ an embarrassed flush blooming across her cheeks.

Nick noted the tone and quit while he was ahead. Bishop was intensely private about her life outside of NCIS, she shut up like a clam if he even skirted the ‘off-limits’ topics. Everyone has secrets, right? He didn’t talk much about his undercover time either and she respected his privacy on that, so he did the same for her. Her family back home were the only chink in her armour, she talked about them a lot. Nick was the opposite, he chatted with ease about his dating, his hobbies, but never brought up his family, why advertise that disaster either?

Before he knew it, Christmas had rolled around and another new experience hit him; the office party. It was the last Friday before everyone headed off home for the holidays and Ellie, all excited she was flying out to Oklahoma the next day, was still busy as hell running around organising the Secret Santa thing while insisting on everyone decorating their workstations with holiday tat. She was relentless but it presented endless opportunities to tease her some more, besides it took his mind off the fact that he would be on his own again this Christmas, something he had gotten used to over the years.

Walking into the bar Nick caught sight of Bishop, all dressed up in a cute red Christmas dress, the kind that has a big knitted Santa face on the front, crazy candy-stripe stocking legs and fake holly leaf hairband all lit up with red fairy light berries to crown the look off. The dress was short and had a fluffy white trim skirting around the hem… the higher up than mid-thigh hem.

He sucked in a gulp of air and prepared for another night of strained pants torture.

She looked fantastic.

He thought she looked beautiful every day but now with her long hair softly curled and hot red lips to match her dress. Yeah, she looked fantastic.

Grabbing a beer at the bar, Nick noticed the whole place was heaving with _usually_ very serious, very dull and boring government employee types. Tonight though, general drunkenness, cheesy Christmas jumpers, reindeer antlers and silly flashing ties seemed to be the dress code. He felt a little awkward now dressed in a black shirt and jeans.

Bishop, as always, came to his rescue.

‘I win $20 if you pull on this top Nick’ she whispered, she flicked her thumb back to their team table ‘they bet me you won’t but you’ll take one for Team Ellick won’t you?’. She fluttered her eyelashes at him theatrically, ‘pretty please, Nick?’

When she asked him like that, how could he refuse? Smirking he pulled the matching red Santa tee-shirt to her dress on over his own.

‘Team _Ellick_?’ he asked, his lips twitching at her suddenly embarrassed expression.

‘Ellie-Nick combo, blame Kasie, she came up with it last girl’s night out, it kinda stuck’ her eyes widened with the admission.

‘So, you’re saying you girls talk about me?’ he smirked. Hitting him a backhander on the shoulder she pulled him over to the table and collected her winnings, dazzling him a brilliant smile. He leaned over and whispered, ‘you owe me a drink for this Bishop, I look ridiculous’.

There it was again, that tightening in his chest when he got close to her, her delicate perfume sent his heart racing. Up close her skin was luminous; he idly wondered what she would taste like if he sank his lips onto that soft exposed skin, just below her ear maybe…

He struggled to pull his eyes from her delighted face, and maybe her neck, but when he did, he noticed Jack giving him an appraising look.

Great, all he needed was Sloane putting two and two together about his growing feelings for his partner. It was getting ridiculous now, he could barely function around Bishop without a firmness developing in his pants.

‘You look gorgeous’ she blurted her cheeks turning rosy in an instant, ‘I mean it looks gorgeous, great, I’m um, glad it fits and um, _anyways_ , let me get you that drink’ she finally stammered out.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one getting flustered?

‘I’m fine, I was kidding’ he showed her his nearly full bottle.

‘Deal’s a deal Torres’

‘You can owe me one’ he smirked, leaning in almost conspiratorially.

He thought about suggesting a reward substitution, a festive smooch instead of a beer sounded like the perfect deal to him, he even spied some probably plastic mistletoe hanging on a ribbon over the corner of the bar, that was definitely something he could work with.

He was rocked out of his reverie by her body slamming into his chest as someone jostled her, sloshing her drink all over him. Instinctively Nick’s arm flew out and pulled her close against him, bracing himself around her protectively, in the process giving the drunken dork that shoved her such an ominous look the fool mouthed a hearty apology and backed off with his hands up.

‘You ok B?’ he asked concerned, she was half the size of that idiot.

‘Yeah, I’m fine…Oh, Nick I’m sorry! Your shirt is soaked’ she tutted as she started brushing off the cocktail splashes from his top. He rolled his eyes heavenward as her hand coursed its way across his chest then lower onto his abdomen. Reflexively he grabbed her hand as it headed a little too far south, horrified she would brush against his less than controlled result of her ministrations. His skin buzzed as their skin made contact, and without thinking he brushed her knuckles with his thumb.

He was sure he would spontaneously combust when he felt her tiny fingers suddenly intertwined with his.

It was like the whole bar, the music and the roar of conversation around them, fell away. Now it was just Nick and Ellie, staring at each other, their fingers lacing together, gently caressing, exploring, stroking.

He sucked in his breath as the intimacy of the moment struck him. She looked at him with a shy kind of wonder, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she tried to puzzle out what she should do next.

He sure as hell didn’t know!

For the first time in his adult life, he was nervous to take the next step.

And ok, the location was hardly ideal. Their entire office, their whole damn team was like right there! She flicked her eyes over to their colleagues and worked out nobody could see their hands touching under the high table and she seemed to get a little braver. They were standing close anyway, angling themselves towards each other in the crush of bodies, but now their clasped hands, her fingers, were rubbing against the thigh area of his jeans and his breath hitched.

Jack just caught his eye again.

_Christ, maybe she’d noticed?_

He jerked back, letting go of Ellie’s hand as one finger got perilously close to his fly.

Jack smirked and took a slurp of her drink.

_Yeah, she’d noticed!_

‘Aww it’s too bad, the jerk didn’t ruin the tee-shirt _unfortunately_ , I guess I’ll have to keep it on, huh?’ he teased a little loudly for the benefit of the group. Her eyes had shot him a disappointed and maybe even a little hurt look when he had stepped back, but he swiftly leaned in and explained ‘not here, later?’ in a meaningful whisper just for her.

His heart constricted with fear and hope now that he had finally put ‘later’ on the table.

She nodded back, a shy smile lighting up her face and he relaxed a little. They both joined in with the conversation around the table as the whole team had fun together, blowing off steam after a tough year of big changes for everyone it seemed.

Their fingers accidentally on purpose brushed until they found each other again, their pinkies eventual hooking together, neither wanting to break the new, tingling connection, but they were more careful to keep their touches hidden, the secrecy heightening the sensation of such a minimal physical link. His pulse pounded at the base of his neck, his breathing picking up speed rapidly in short, shallow breaths as her chest movements seemed to mirror his own. The reality of a ‘later’ with Ellie swarming his mind.

Every inch of Nick thrummed as she brushed by him, chest to chest, her eyes locked on his, her hand grazing lightly over his abdomen as she excused herself to head off with the other girls on their group excursion to the ladies room, and Nick spent the time she was gone trying to sort out a plan as thoughts were whizzing through his brain. Bishop was different from every other woman he had ever been remotely interested in. He knew he had to handle this, whatever _this_ was, differently too. With anyone else, holding hands in a bar would mean nothing but, with _her_ , the tiny step was like a giant leap forward into the unknown.

Nick was so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t realised the girls had returned, in fact, they were back quite a while, and were now gathered in a huddle, whispering secretly like a coven of witches.

There was no sign of Bishop.

‘Hey Kasie, did Bishop come out of the bathroom yet? Is she sick or something?’ He would be surprised if she were drunk, by his count she was only three maybe four drinks deep. He had seen her sink plenty more than that without a wobble. He started to get anxious that their ‘patty-fingers’ had maybe spooked his reserved partner, he sincerely hoped she hadn’t left

‘She’s at the bar’ Kasie shouted over, pointing with her chin.

Nick glanced over and saw a tall, sandy-haired, shirt and tie guy standing way too close to his partner and his heckles went up. Even though he knew she was more than capable of dealing with the idiot herself, he was still about to head over to tell the guy to back off.

Nick came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the floor, so unexpected the person behind him walked straight into him. He vaguely heard the lady bitching about it but it was all background noise, a distant buzzing in his ears.

He couldn’t believe what he was looking at.

The sandy-haired guy started kissing Ellie… and she let him!

Full-on, open-mouthed, hands running through her hair, _way_ past first-base, kissing.

Nick was shell-shocked; there was just no other way of describing it. It was like a cannonball hit him square in the chest, boring a hole through his heart and taking his lungs out past his obliterated spine. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, he just watched, numb.

She was talking to the man now, all whispers and ducking her head coyly. It was obvious this guy wasn’t a random hit at the bar; she had to know him and must have arranged to meet him or something.

What the hell was all that between them not twenty minutes ago, the intense looks and the touching and the finger-frolicking?

What the _fuck_ game was she playing?

The guy had her up against a pillar now; hand on her waist, fingers circling lower until he was palming her ass, her dress hitching up higher. Nick turned away disgusted with what he saw and flagging down a waitress ordered a large whiskey with a bottle of whiskey chaser.

As the bar got crazier, more and more festive partygoers piling in, the music started beating out club hits and suddenly everyone was up dancing. Before he knew it a cute agent he recognised from Cyber-crimes was gyrating against him, and he let her, hell he actively encouraged it.

Between the whiskey and the shock at seeing Bishop play him like that, sure, he took advantage of the fact that a hot woman was throwing herself at him. Their lips connected and he just went with it, his mind still blank with shock. Coming up for air at some point, he glanced over to where Bishop had been getting busy. The guy was putting her coat on for her, and she was staring at Nick with an odd expression, reluctance, remorse, regret?

_Fuck her anyway!_

He deliberately turned the girl, Melanie? Melissa maybe? around so they were spooning on the dancefloor, his pelvis flush with her ample butt, his eyes locked on Ellie’s as he ran his hands all over the girl’s curvaceous body while she looped her arm back over his neck and ran her fingers through the hairs at the nape of his skull. Breaking his glare with Bishop he dropped a kiss on, let’s just go with _Mel’s_ , neck. She tasted of sweat and cheap, cloying perfume.

Next time he looked up, Bishop and the guy were gone.

He could easily have taken ‘Mel’ home and sweated off all his pent-up frustration, but he just didn’t want to. He was infuriated and confused and hurt and that combination was new to him. Offering to go get drinks for them both, he just left the bar, walking out into the cold night air. He didn’t even say goodnight to his colleagues. He just headed home to his crappy apartment for another lonely, TV and whiskey-filled Christmas.

The day after Christmas Nick went back to work, what was the point of being alone at home when they needed a skeleton crew to man the desks over the holidays. As expected, Gibbs was back too, head down in paperwork, Christmas was not exactly a rosy family time for him either. Nick was still a ball of edgy irritation since the party and was very glad that Bishop was back home in Hicksville for the foreseeable, he wasn’t exactly sure he could hold back on what he would say, and he’d be damned if he’d let her see how much her little performance had stung him.

After spending the guts of two hours neck-deep in evidence crates, he finally found what he needed and hauled his archive box relating to the first Naval bank heist up to his desk. Ready to dive into another few hours of drudgery he automatically flicked his eye to Bishop’s desk, an ingrained habit apparently.

With a quick intake of breath, he recognised the back of her blonde head just peeking out over the top of her desk and surveying the scene he took in the scatter of files and pages strewn around the floor space where she sat, probably crisscrossed, ear-buds in, with that intense look she got when she lost herself in her analyst, thinking mode.

_Just fucking great!_

Shaking his head he couldn’t keep the bite from his tone. ‘Hey Gibbs, what’s _she_ doing here?’

‘Her job, Torres’ his boss levelled him a glare that sent him back to his own desk, snatching out and slamming down files. The blonde head didn’t react, but Gibbs’s did. He dialled down his irritable display when he got a second glare. Gibbs should not be pushed to a third.

The next ten days flew by and luckily for Nick, he barely had to see her. She was pulled away to work number crunching for some joint bank robbery task force a couple of sections down, but he caught sight of her walking to the lift or the conference room a couple of times. They did _not_ make eye contact. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or vexed that he hadn’t gotten to hit her with some of the choice cutting remarks he had perfected in his head.

Neither running extra miles nor knocking ten shades out of the punchbags at the gym cleared his head of resentment. Nick spent his nights hitting bars, getting hammered and hooking up with nobody women, enjoying the chase, delving deep with rough tongues and quick releases with deft hands in quiet corners or dark carparks but, adding to his building frustration, always heading home alone, unable to even commit to mindless sex.

Nick was tired, they all were. Another bank heist the day before had the team working stupid hours. When Bishop offered to do a coffee run, he damn near bit her head off with his refusal. Flinching back, she ducked her head and scurried away.

McGee spoke up crossly, ‘Nick, what the hell! Look, you may be burning the candle at both ends’ he gave a pointed glance to the already bruising hicky from last night’s tryst, ‘but there is no need to snap at Bishop’. Shaking his head, the usually mild man muttered ‘she’s having a tough enough time…’ 

‘What, did her Christmas party bootie-call not pan out then?’ his tone harsh even to his own ears.

‘Bootie-call?’ Tim seemed surprised by Nick’s crude turn of phrase, then it dawned on him ‘oh you mean Molloy?’

‘Molloy, huh? You know the d-guy?’ he bit back ‘dick’ but Tim had probably heard it.

‘Sure, I know Jerk’ McGee puffed out a contemptuous huff. Nick just lifted his eyebrows in a silent probe.

‘Sorry, my bad, _Jake_. That was the ever-elusive jerk, her husband’ McGee said it like Nick would immediately recognise the name but Nick stiffened, his mouth forming an expressive ‘O’ and Tim realised he had said something he maybe shouldn’t. ‘I shouldn’t gossip about Ellie’s personal life behind her back. I’m just saying cut her some slack, ok?’.

Nick nodded noncommittally and sat back down at his own desk, his head exploding with a clusterfuck of unanswered questions.

_Husband._

Fucking _husband_!

Wow, she was good!

Never once mentioned a husband, in almost a fucking _year_! That was a _long_ play; to hook a guy, to reel him in and almost land him. He was certain he had never seen a wedding band; did she take it off every day? And here he was thinking she stressed about a five-minute episode of lying when undercover.

_Wholesome and sweet my ass!_

Oh, she was good! He’d be impressed if he weren’t so disgusted. He should have seen it, this desk job was making him soft, he was losing his edge at reading people. He’d never had been so blindsided in all his years undercover.

He’d been right all along. You really can’t trust anyone.

Not sure how long he had been staring at the same case file he heard Gibbs bark out orders. ‘Torres, Bishop, you’re up. Stakeout at the Fairfax Naval Fed branch, it’s the last one on the list and with this storm due tomorrow they might take a risk and hit it tonight’

‘Boss, McGee and I can cover it’

‘You’ll need Bishop, the bank manager Thomas Simons will be back from St. Lucia in the morning, interview him at home before he lawyers up, it’s nearby. She’s been looking at the accounts for days and will know what to ask if he tries to get economical with the truth on numbers’ he reasoned.

Nodding tightly Nick stood up and clenching his teeth he called her, ‘Bishop?’ Irritated when she didn’t reply from behind her desk he stomped over to her workstation and tapped her lightly on her shoulder. She almost jumped out of her skin at the interruption. Pulling out her earplugs and unfolding herself stiffly, she struggled to get up. Shoving his fists in his pockets he refused to help her, even if his fingers itched to do so. She glanced up at him warily, and if he was being honest, she looked awful, her face strained, exhausted and pale.

But it wasn’t any of his business. What did he care?

He turned to grab his go-bag without waiting for her reply. ‘Boss says we're up, stakeout, I’m driving’.

She slunk into the passenger seat of the car and they stayed in a frosty silence for hours after he parked up outside the bank. It was awkward and unnatural not to banter their way through the cold, tedious hours of a stakeout but he had no words for her. Luckily, they both had their phones to play with; she staring at the message screen and he mildly entertained with the girl from last night sexting him seductive allusions about continuing where they had left off.

Her timid voice broke his concentration as he tried to craft the perfect innuendo for his next text.

‘Nick…I-, it’s not-,’ she stammered, her eyes looking for his.

‘Save it for someone who cares Bishop, your husband maybe?’ he spat through gritted teeth. ‘If it’s not work, I’m not interested’ he declared emphatically.

Her head bobbed in acknowledgement, all injured and deflated.

She had some balls to come across as the wounded party in this shitshow she had created.


	2. Know your enemy

She had hurt him. The one good thing in her life, and she had hurt him. His palpable anger was justified. She deserved everything he lashed at her.

Because she had hurt him in a stupid effort to protect herself from shame and ridicule and pitying eyes.

They might have had a chance.

But not now. _Now_ was too late. If she had been brave enough, honest enough, he might not look at her with such repugnance now. 

If she had only told him from the start but it didn’t seem important, then.

From the very start Ellie had difficulties sussing out the new guy, Nick Torres. She had read his file cover to cover, she had to when they were trying to track him down. Now he sat at a desk across from her and she was at a loss to understand the guy. Ok ‘sat’ at his desk was not truly accurate. He was usually hovering around the bullpen pumping his muscles, squeezing himself into even smaller shirts or playing catch with that baseball of his. He was cock-sure of himself, the guy even had a framed photo of _himself_ \- on his desk!

But there was something about him.

Gibbs had them partnered up after his first week in the unit. She had to admit they made a good team and they got results. He had an ability to weave an alias, work an angle, charm a witness, feel when something was ‘off’ that was just innate to him. Street smart. She knew the rules and how to bend them using protocol, she had years of analyst experience in intelligence and counter-terrorism know-how stored in her encyclopaedic mind. ‘Book smart’ he had called her, and not in a very complimentary way she thought in those early days.

In fact, she didn’t think he liked her much at all, at first. He poked fun at her little quirks; her need to control the plasma remote, her weird taste buds and appetite, the way she sat on the floor to think things through. But she learned quickly his teasing was just that, teasing. He wasn’t _mean_ teasing; Ellie knew the difference. She lived with it.

Recently Ellie had noticed Nick made her laugh, properly full-on laugh, with his cheesy, Casanova, egomaniac, muscle-man crap, she couldn’t help but laugh and every time she did, he tried to up the ante with more outrageous showing off. She enjoyed coming to work, relished the banter with Nick, even when he drove her nuts. It was better than the long silences or worse the stilted, forced conversations at home.

The months rolled on and Nick became a trusted partner and friend. They just worked well together, their differences complimented each other, and she felt safe with him. He always had her back.

Then one day, like a light switch flipped, she realised he was … _more_. They were on a run-of-the-mill stakeout and had to cover their surveillance op with a diversion before they were made, Nick went for the fake make-out and Ellie went weak at the knees.

Cliché yes, but true all the same.

Ellie discovered she had ‘ _them’_ , exactly as Delilah had described.

The girls had all gone out for payday drinks just the Friday before, a new tradition that Ellie was enjoying more than she should, more than other routines she had to endure.

Delilah was just back from a stint in the London office and was dying to catch up with everyone’s news. As the drinks tab mounted up, the table filled with empty glasses and the conversation turned naughtier, their ever-surprising friend floored them all.

‘I know you guys don’t see it, but Tim in a black dress shirt…fanny-flutters!’ she gushed, fanning herself with the cocktail menu and rolling her eyes wickedly.

Kasie and Ellie simultaneously sprayed out their drink, while Jack started coughing so hard tears fell.

‘What? You guys have a hard time with Tim being sexy or knowing my lady bits still buzz? TMI?’ she asked innocently, sucking on her drink.

‘Yes, no and _what_?’ Jack managed to croak out, still trying to wipe away her running mascara.

‘’Fanny flutters’?’ she laughed boldly, ‘I got hooked on the UK version of _Love Island_ , there’s this hilarious Irish girl on it, says it _exactly_ as it is. It’s a thing now ‘fanny flutters’, you know that feeling ladies…all buzzy to get busy. Oh, I should probably clarify, ‘fanny’ is not your behind in Europe’ she finished with a completely straight face.

Ellie’s face reddened to a roaring scarlet.

‘Don’t get all bashful at this table Bishop, you’re a married lady, you know _exactly_ what I’m talking about’. Delilah nudged Ellie hard in the ribs to accentuate her point. Kasie’s eyes were so wide her eyeballs would’ve rolled onto the table if she’d even hiccupped.

Ellie _did_ know exactly what Delilah was talking about, but it wasn’t her husband who brought ‘ _them_ ’ on, hence the overwhelming embarrassment as the image of the person responsible for those kinds of bodily responses rose immediately to her mind.

The girls rarely if ever mentioned Ellie’s marital status. They knew the situation and they left that well alone. Kasie was new though and didn’t. Ellie excused herself to go pee, discreetly letting Delilah and Jack fill her in the calamity that was her marriage. She couldn’t look another person in the eye and try to explain why she was still in it.

She had made a promise, she just had to try harder.

In the relative quiet of the restroom Ellie’s mind slipped back again to her most recent episode of Nick induced ‘flutters’. Nick so close to her she could feel his warm breath on the sensitive skin of her neck…it was her _particular_ weak spot. His voice had a low throaty timbre, a cadence accentuated by his soft accent that just thrummed a cord somewhere deep inside her, the warm vibrations strumming a melody her core hummed along with. Leaning closer still, the heat of his body radiated through her clothes, surrounding her with his unique aroma of warm spices, sandalwood, musk… and Nick.

She took the opportunity to enjoy the moment, there was no crime in that, was there? So she _may_ have got a little bit closer to him than strictly necessary and she _may_ have made the whole act look even more convincing by feeling her way around his toned abs to that dimpled area at the small of his back.

She had ‘them’…bad…or good, depending on how you thought of it. Ellie knew; they reminded her she was alive.

And that was it. It wasn’t just the innocent attraction that had been there from the start anymore. Her world shifted, and Ellie knew in that moment she felt something more for Nick than she should.

But reality, as always, kicked in. Her appetite disappeared as she thought about that night. Jake would be home, ‘date night’ and their fortnightly scheduled ‘together’ time. It was getting tougher to go through the motions, even getting to the point that she was glad when she had her period those weekends so she could politely evade his attentions. Jake was always weirdly disgusted by any kind of bodily mess, one of the reasons he always insisted on using condoms to avoid ‘ickiness’, having her period guaranteed her solitude. He wasn’t exactly the ‘just cuddle’ type.

She had to try harder. They could still make their marriage work. She repeated it like a mantra. Maybe soon she would believe it again.

She had made a promise and she always kept her promises.

Weeks went by and Ellie knew she was getting in too deep with Nick. Her heart raced every time they stood too close in the packed lift, when he propped his hip on her desk and filled her field of vision with his broad back, when he smiled at her with that cheeky face of his as she struggled to decide what she wanted for lunch… when they hung out together after work. The holidays would be a welcome break, some family time at home would help focus her mind, get her back on track. She needed the distance to prove to herself it was just a crush. She had almost convinced herself.

Convincing herself of things was her secret superpower.

Ellie loved Christmas and with actually going home this year her excitement went a little over the top with the festive fun. Jake was still working in Afghanistan, he’d been gone three weeks already and he didn’t mind that he wouldn’t be home until January, he hated the holidays anyways.

Ellie breathed in the scent of her cinnamon and gingerbread candle that Jake would have loathed and smiled at her reflection. Maybe the candy-stripe tights were a little goofy but what the hell, it was Christmas and Nick would crack up laughing when he saw her, he’d been calling her Elfie Bishop all week. She grabbed the shirt she had bought him, the match to her own dress; she knew he would never think of wearing anything silly, but she had survived more office parties than him, ‘silly’ was a requirement. Even a year into being on an NCIS desk she knew he still struggled to find his feet sometimes. Undercover work was what he knew, but he seemed to have finally settled more into his team role recently and that made her happy.

Her eyes found him as soon as he walked in the bar, dressed head to toe in black of course. She had to get to him before he got to the table, bet was he would meet them all _dressed_ in something festive.

His smirk, _that_ smirk would be her undoing. She knew it, and she was beginning to think he knew it too.

Standing together at the team table Ellie felt her body gravitate towards his, she craved his warmth, even in the middle of a packed bar she craved the warmth of being close to Nick. Hypnotised in a trance of longing she glanced up and just caught him as he fixed his gaze on her neck, running his eyes from her ear to her collarbone, his lips parted with a raw hunger painted all over on his face.

He wasn’t even trying to disguise it.

An unexpected shove from behind and instantaneously he pulled her into his protective arm, steadfastly standing like a bulwark, shielding her, surrounding her with the very warmth and strength that she had just been fantasising about. Absentmindedly she tried to dry off his top but then he grabbed her hand and right there, with _that_ touch, his rough thumb stroking her knuckle…she took the step her body, her heart, had been screaming out for. She weaved her petite fingers through his robust extremities, they felt soft and soothing, yet rugged and solid. Just like Nick, she thought, looking into his deep, dark eyes, her cheeks reddening. His hand was warm in hers, her nerves tingling at the comfort of contact.

Nick seemed as shocked as she did at their sudden intimacy, but his nervous smile and gentle caresses said he was as invested as she was.

It was just Ellie and Nick in a crazy, crowded bar, but she could only see, hear and feel him.

When he broke away, she panicked, the loss of connection cutting her to the quick.

Of course, it was a bad idea! They weren’t drunk, but they _could_ brush it off to themselves as just a moment festive fun when they needed to. She prepared herself for an awkward episode.

But then he said it.

‘Not here, later?’ she saw it in his eyes, he was putting his heart into the question.

And she said yes.

Ellie decided, she wanted Nick.

Even surrounded by their colleagues their need to keep touching continued. They both casually positioned themselves closer; they were all crammed in anyway, but theirs was an intentional immediacy. They did the _inadvertent_ brush of hands a couple of times before they both just gave up on the pretence, forging a link of interlacing fingers that neither wanted to break.

Ellie’s heart soared, her breathing quickened and those flutters were buzzing with an intensity that had her swallowing erratically and her cheeks burning. Shaking herself out of her heated haze she couldn’t help but grow in confidence as Nick’s breath hitched at her trailing caress across his muscular abdomen. She had wanted to do that since that day in the street and now pushing by him to join the girls on a powder-room run she finally felt brave enough.

She knew crossing the line would have consequences, but never did she think the gods had such a cruel sense of humour. Stepping out of the bathroom a hand gripped her upper arm, too tight to be friendly, no this was pissed off.

‘ _Jake_! I thought-,’she spluttered, the blood draining from her face.

‘Out enjoying yourself I see, and what’s with the ridiculous outfit Ellie, you’re a grown woman for god’s sake’ he said it quietly enough but she looked around to see if anyone else had overhead it but the music was loud enough to mask his tone.

Jake had that look in his eye, the jealous, domineering one.

‘Jake, um, these are my work friends, Kasie, Jack, Delilah and Brianna’ she tried her best to make it sound upbeat, but her heart thundered in her chest, what had he seen? ‘Ladies this is Jake’

‘Jake Molloy, Ellie’s husband’ he clarified with a smile that she knew didn’t reach his eyes. Already she knew she’d pay for that, he hated it when she didn’t tell the world that he owned her.

The girls mumbled polite hellos and swiftly shuffled off to leave them alone, obviously thinking he had given her a lovely surprise in coming home in time for Christmas.

But the death knell tolled in Ellie’s heart.

Jake was _not_ a Christmas person.

Escorting her to the bar he ordered her a water and himself a gin, _oh …so it was one of those nights_.

Taking a mouthful of his drink he gave her a winsome look, ‘I had to see you Ellie, I just really missed you, you know’ he started playing with her hair, inspecting it for split ends. ‘Like your dad said, a husband should be with his wife for the holidays, so I got special leave, to be here with you’ he said earnestly, his eyes boring into hers.

Her blood ran cold as he started kissing her, his lips hard and relentless on her mouth. He always knew the right words to say to make her capitulate. Jake wasn’t one for public displays, but this was him staking his claim, he must have seen her smiling or just standing beside Nick… even that would be enough to push his buttons.

_Nick!_

He had turned his back to her, but she knew by his stiff posture, the large amber drink in his hand, he had seen them, of course he had, Jake had made sure Nick and her whole team were in their line of sight. Jake had had issues with her being partnered with a guy from the start. He quizzed her constantly about him, Ellie always circumspect in her answers but up til now he had never _seen_ Nick, who let’s face it was everything her husband was not... Now Jake’s inferiority complex would raise its ugly head.

She kissed him back to soften his mood. She just had to work harder. That’s what you did when you were married, when you made a promise, took an oath.

His point made; Jake got her coat. Ellie’s heart broke as she saw Nick dance provocatively with a stunning brunette, wrapping her in his arms as their hips pulsed to the pounding club beats just a few feet away. She didn’t know what truth was worse; that he was deliberately goading her now in retaliation or that their early intimacy was all a sham and had meant nothing to him anyway.

Either way it didn’t matter now.

Jake was passionate in his own way that night; firm-handed, rough, biting her delicate skin until it hurt, pulling fistfuls of her hair. He got like this when they’d been apart for a while. She was convinced he spent his downtime overseas watching porn thinking that’s what women wanted. At least it was winter, she could cover the bruises with her roll-neck jumpers.

He didn’t force himself on her; she would never allow that. No, it was worse. She let him touch her, even participated mechanically, her mind on other things, hoping he’d finish-up quickly and roll off her, her conjugal duty fulfilled for another while. 

When he was done, he kissed her gently on the shoulder and went straight to the bathroom to wash up. Returning to bed he snuggled into her; that was unusual, she should have seen it as a warning sign.

‘So, we get to spend Christmas together, that’ll be nice’ he whispered nuzzling into her hair.

‘What time is your flight to Oklahoma; did you get a seat on my 3pm one?’ 

‘What? No, Ellie, I only have a couple of days, I don’t want to spent them travelling and making small-talk with your family, kids running around all over the place’ he shuddered a ‘yuck’, a habit he had gotten into whenever kids were mentioned. Only stupid people had kids he had told her; expensive, inconvenient, messy and the whole birth thing would completely turn him off ever looking at her sexually again. A couple of years back she had caught him counting her pill, a surprise baby was _not_ an option. He couldn’t trust her to take them apparently, hence the condoms he said. She had changed to long acting injected contraception as part of their ‘try again’ deal.

‘But my family are expecting me Jake, it’s been arranged for months’ she tried to keep the longing out of her voice but steadied her breath knowing yet again disappointment was coming.

‘You can Skype them Ellie, your mom understands how important my job is, and how this is _our_ family holiday. Come on, we’ll spoil ourselves, order in from the Shelbourne, they do a luxury festive full spread. We won’t have to shop or cook, just relax and sip champagne. Ellie, I really want to spend Christmas with you, just the two of us, quality time, like we used to be. We just have to work at it, like we promised we would.’

Nodding she surrendered again. Marriage wasn’t easy, it was give and take. She had promised to try to make it work, push through the bad times, the loss of trust.

She had _nearly_ just done what Jake had done to her.

Cheated.

Shame ate into her, but it was tempered with the misery of loss. Nick was just another price she was paying for Jake’s sin.

Christmas Eve was nice, it had started snowing a little, just enough to make the world look pretty and Jake was being sweet and attentive and almost like the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. They were curled up on the couch together watching a subtitled Nordic noir drinking mulled wine, the only festive thing Jake looked forward to. Just as it was getting dark, the fairy lights twinkling softly, his phone rang, and he walked into the bedroom to take it returning flustered just a few minutes later.

‘I have to go, work, I leave in two hours from Andrews’ he started gathering up his electronics without even a glance at her.

‘ _What_! No, Jake it’s Christmas Eve!’

‘I know that Ellie, but it’s the NSA, I have to go’ he answered as if she were an imbecile. ‘If it was NCIS you’d go, Christ, we both know you’d drop anything for them’ he spat out, but she didn’t rise to it.

‘But I cancelled my flight home, I’ll never get another one now!’

‘Well, it can’t be helped El. Look I’ll be home again probably in a couple of weeks, we’ll do Christmas then ok?’ he offered like he was doing her a huge favour.

Tears welled in her eyes as she realised, she’d be spending the holiday on her own. He kissed the side of her head distractedly, ‘Have you seen my charger?’

After he left Ellie didn’t have the heart to let her mom know she was on her own, she just couldn’t cope with more pitying looks. She Skyped everyone the next day and faked a smile, lying saying Jake was just gone out to get some fresh cream for their festive pavlova dessert. She was getting better at telling fibs to her family.

She went back into work the next day. Cold cases, there were always cold cases to keep her busy. Work had been her happy place all year, so she hunkered down on the floor in her cubical, blasted some tunes in her earbuds and lost herself in her work. Gibbs hadn’t asked when she showed up, he was well aware of Jake’s ‘indiscretion’ having come down home to bring her back to DC when it all came out. He knew about them trying again, he didn’t look happy about it when she told him all those months ago. She had her reasons and that was enough for him. The stoic man just let her be, for which she was incredibly grateful.

What she hadn’t considered was Nick being back in the office over the holidays. She had inferred from what he had said that he was spending it ‘away’ with family…or was it friends? She realised she had been so wrapped up about going home herself she hadn’t really asked him.

The awkwardness she feared was somewhat abated by the fact she was seconded over to the Major Fraud and Theft task force to look at the spate of Naval bank and credit union robberies. She hoped the window of a couple of weeks might cool Nick’s hostility towards her, nothing had really happened between them after all, right?

But _everything_ had changed.

He was still furious with her, even snapping her head off when she offered coffee. She let him run his tongue, how could she defend herself? Worse was to come though when she got landed on an overnight stakeout with him.

As the hours of silence chocked up, sat together in the confined space of the car her nerves started to fray. There had been no reply to her texts to Jake, who was home since yesterday but with work they hadn’t seen each other yet. She needed to tell him she was on night duty, on a case, not ‘whoring’ as he had even suggested that one other time months ago when she hadn’t informed him she was working late. Considering he was the one who had the affair it always surprised her how paranoid he was about her schedule.

It was time to explain to Nick, she had to bite the bullet, wade through the nauseating embarrassment of describing her circumstances and apologise to him. She would try to salvage something of their working relationship.

She accepted their friendship was done for.

‘Save it for someone who cares Bishop, your _husband_ maybe?’ he spat venomously through gritted teeth. ‘If it’s not work, I’m not interested’ he declared emphatically after her stammering first attempt.

She took it at face value. He was hurt and she deserved his anger.

Wiping away a tear with the back of her hand she stared out the passenger window, almost hoping the place got robbed, at least that would give them something to do other than stew in their own feelings.

Around 3am she finally got a text back from Jake. He was in Boston visiting his sister Jane to celebrate her PhD award and would be back on Sunday. Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced over at Nick who had finally finished his texting marathon with whoever was making him smirk. He looked tired and she hadn’t _not_ noticed the lip shaped bruise on his neck that his shirt collar didn’t quite hide. His stony-faced silence continued, his arms crossed in annoyance.

Finally, the day shift came to relieve them, and they drove to a diner to toilet break and grab breakfast. Nick ordered his own and left her to do the same, the changed rapport in their partnership obvious in that one event.

As they drove to the bank manager’s house to interview him regarding the robberies, Ellie decided to drop Jane a congratulatory text. They had just pulled up in the driveway when her sister-in-law called.

‘Nick? Two minutes I have to take this’ she mumbled hesitantly, waving her phone at him but his face was set, his eyes flinty.

He didn’t even reply.

‘Ellie, thank you for the lovely message but I think you got your wires crossed, I still have a couple of months work on my thesis before I can submit it’ Jane sounded surprised to hear from her, they hadn’t actually spoken in a while to be fair.

‘Oh, I thought you were done, nearly there though now, huh?’ Ellie forced out in her cheery voice past the nausea already snaking up the back of her throat. ‘Can you put Jake on the phone, I just want to check what time his flight back from Logan is, I can maybe pick him up?’

‘ _Jake_? Why would Jake be _here_?’

Ellie sucked in a lungful of frigid early morning air. The seconds stretched out with silence on either end of the call.

‘Oh Ellie, I’m _so_ sorry…’ she started to apologise nervously; Jane had always been decent to her; she loved her brother but knew what he was.

‘Erm Jane, I um…I have to go, work stuff’ Ellie cast her eyes over to an impatient Nick as she said a quick goodbye.

Her heart jack-hammered in her chest, threatening to bust through her ribcage as she tried in vain to take it in.

_The fucking bastard was cheating again._

‘Am I interrupting your personal life there, Bishop?’ Nick growled sarcastically, ‘can we get back to work now, I’d like to get some sleep _today_ if that’s ok with you!’ snapped acidly.

That was it. She’s had it.

‘Enough Torres! I _get_ it, you’re pissed off, but I have had _enough_! I tried to talk to you, you didn’t want to hear it, so grow the fuck up!’

He stared at her like she had suddenly grown an extra head; his nostrils flaring as he derisively snorted out a steaming breath, his wordless response to her tirade. They were now standing on the porch, eyes locked in fury both with feet firmly planted ready for the next verbal onslaught.

A thump from indoors had them both reaching for their weapons, and it was only then they noticed the hall door had been forced. They both snapped into work mode; she followed Nick’s lead and his direction to take the left, communicated with just a flick of his eyes. They knew each other too well.

Sprawled across the dining room floor lay the unfortunate and very dead Thomas Simons. His face was battered and bruised but it was the shot to the chest that had killed him. Nick indicated he would search upstairs while Ellie headed towards the kitchen.

Stupid; they should have stuck together.

Opening the door, she heard the tell-tale click just as the cold metal of the gun barrel was rammed into the back of her head. 


	3. Rope together a plan.

Nick had only got as far as the halfway landing of the stairs when his instincts told him something was wrong. It was too quiet; she hadn’t shouted the ‘all clear’. He strained his ears for any sound, any creak of floorboards that might give her location away.

‘Bishop?’ he hissed urgently; her lack of reply had his heckles up in an instant. He carefully backed down the stairs, gun ready and headed into the kitchen, past the dead dude who was still dead on the carpet. There was no sign of her but the door to what he guessed was the internal garage was just ajar. Hugging the wall, he cautiously scoped out the neat storage shelving area and silver saloon car parked indoors. He heard a muffled squawk that brought him further into the garage.

A hulking, heavy-set guy had Bishop by the throat and his massive bloodstained hand was squeezing hard enough for her face to be turning a horrible shade of dark red, her lips purple. Nick looked over stacked frame of the brute, rapidly calculating if he could take him.

He took in the gun to her head and immediately held up his hands in submission.

He wouldn’t risk it; he couldn’t risk Ellie.

‘Easy man just let her go!’ Nick called out in his most reasonable voice, he could see her eyes were flickering, she was about to lose consciousness, her tip-toeing feet scraping the rough floor.

The dude before him smirked confidently as a raspy, hillbilly voice barked ‘Drop the gun asshole’ from just behind Nick’s head.

_Fuck, there were two of them!_

He barely registered the pain of the blow to his head. His last image was of Ellie going limp before the darkness took him.

Nick woke in a dark, confined space. Shaking himself to clear his aching head he discovered his hands were bound tightly behind his back, the thin ligatures cut into his wrists as he tested their strength. There was a throbbing sting burning deep into his left deltoid that he couldn’t account for either. He was definitely in the boot of a car; he could smell exhaust fumes, diesel and the cloying scent of car cleaning products. The rumbling vibrations and the sounds of traffic said they were travelling on a busy highway, an Interstate maybe.

The car thumped into a pothole tilting the enclosed space; a dead weight rolled back into his chest and away again as the vehicle righted itself.

He wasn’t alone in the trunk.

He didn’t need light to know it was Ellie; her familiar, floral scent was like a calling card to his heart.

She was horribly still and totally soundless.

‘Bishop, you ok?’ he whispered, his heart picking up its pace as unease gnawed at his gut. It could be the silent treatment for their earlier spat, right?

But he knew that wasn’t it.

The car banked sharply over a roadworks ramp and her limp body rolled flush against him. He felt her hands crush against his balls and gleaned two pieces of information. One, she must be seriously hurt or out cold to touch him _there_ without jerking… away. And secondly, her hands were tied behind her back like his own, if they had to restrain before her putting her in the boot, she wasn’t dead; at least, she wasn’t when they put her in.

The air whooshed out of his lungs in panic as that possibility soaked in.

He wriggled himself closer to her head.

‘Bishop! Come on, wake up! Ellie? You’re scaring me now’ Nick strained against the knots cutting into his wrists.

Was she even breathing?

Twisting some more he laid his ear against her back. Although the temperature in the trunk was chilly, he felt warmth through her jacket, but he held out for what seemed like forever until he finally felt her ribcage expand in slow, shallow breaths.

_Alive, she’s alive!_

He swallowed down the nausea that churned in his stomach and offered a silent thanks to the angels.

She was alive, now he just had to get them both the fuck out of this mess.

Rolling his head around in the restricted space he sussed out that he was on the inside of the boot, his back flush to the leather covering of the rear passenger seats. Some light leaked in from just above him, just enough for him to see that Ellie was nearest the opening, her head mashed up into the corner. As they slowed the red tail-light flooded the compartment with a crimson-red, subdued glow and hauling himself up he could just make out a black splash smeared across her temple and streaked down through her pale hair.

Blood.

Well that explained why she was out cold. The dull red illumination also reflected off a wide patch of duct tape over her mouth.

_What had she done to earn that?_

He could hear the car radio going but no conversation, just the weather report. Snow, lots of it on the way, the apocalyptic storm had been forecast for days. Polar vortex, killer sub-zero lows, frozen precipitation, white-out blizzard, danger to life, Snowmageddon. The guy kept flicking through the stations, and they kept on driving.

How long they had been on the road Nick had no clue. In fact, he had no clue about a lot of stuff; who were the guys who took them, why take them at all? Where were they going? How long until they’d be missed? How would NCIS know where to even look for them?

_How the fuck am I going to get her out of this?_

Sure, he was mad at her, furious even, but he knew he would still give his last breath to save her.

The temperature was definitely dropping. He snuggled closer to her to keep her warm, shock alone could kill her, and he had noticed his own fingers were starting to pinch with the cold. He pointedly ignored the fact that her tiny hands were currently unconsciously warming themselves in his crotch. If she had been awake, he had all manner of teasing comments he could have hit her with. On any other day, with less actual chance of imminent death, the flickering sultry red light and the bondage theme they had going on would’ve given him loads to work with!

Almost like she was reading his mind, her hands flexed, and she started straining against her ties. He heard her breath quicken as she came to and panicking, she kicked and booted her legs in fight mode, snorting out muffled screams.

‘Shh, _shh_! Bishop, it’s ok, I’m right here, you’re ok!’ Her body seemed to relax against him. Once she got her wheezing breaths under control, he tried to find out how badly injured she was.

‘I know you’re probably sore but are you ok?’ he asked softly. She nodded a firm yes but groaned at the same time, she twisted her wrists causing a quick sniffed intake of her breath, no doubt as the thin wires cut in some more.

‘Stay still, you’ll hurt yourself, ok?’ she nodded again. He gave her a quick whispered round up of the information he had…it wasn’t much.

‘Our best bet is to play dead some more, keep quite and try to untie ourselves. Are you ok with that tape over your mouth? I could maybe tear it off but I’d um… have to use my teeth’.

For a very long time he’d wanted to use his teeth and tongue on Ellie Bishop, but this was not exactly the scenario he had in mind.

Not aware of the images flashing through his mind in technicolour, she just shrugged. He stupidly hadn’t asked her a clear ‘yes /no’ question and he really wasn’t sure how he’d cope if she said yes, so he decided to proceed with caution.

‘Ok we’ll try cutting the cables first, but if you need the gag gone, um…elbow me twice, ok?’

Her head bobbed in understanding. Now the next bit of his plan would have to be carefully explained.

He tried to keep it light.

‘Bishop, Rule 9’ he cleared his throat, his voice dropping lower, ‘Remember my belt buckle?’ her body stiffened against him as she twigged she would have to retrieve the knife.

She knew where it was of course, she had cackled with laughter a few months ago when he regaled the team with his best internet buy like _ever_ , a discreet belt-buckle that doubled as a secret two-inch blade, which would neatly satisfy Gibbs’s rule, ‘never go anywhere without a knife’.

She threw her head back in resignation, he imagined she was doing her long-suffering look with the rolling of her eyes, and never was he so glad that his partner couldn’t sass him at that moment. She gave a resigned huff and wiggled her ass back until she was sitting in his lap then her fingers went to work.

As deft as her restrained digits were, she made some sweeping errors of geographical judgment. He tried really hard not to react to her completely functional actions.

He was not a dick…but he had one and it had yearned to have his partner release it from the confines of his jeans for so long now that, even with a very stern talking to, it flagrantly ignored its owner’s fervent orders to cease and desist.

He sucked in his breath and stomach muscles as her icy fingers accidently brushed the bare skin far south of his navel as she tried again to manipulate the stiff buckle of his tight leather belt. A few minutes in and a sweat had broken out on his brow in the endeavour of controlling his painfully rigid boy.

Soon after that his childhood prayers were his last line of defence.

‘¡Santa María, Madre de Dios!’ he explosively hissed just as the belt finally sprung open. Taking some steadying breaths to send a little air to his befuddled brain, most of his blood having taken up residence in his warmer southern regions, he as calmly as possible proceeded to instruct her how to detach the blade. They were so close together, spooning really. Her soft hair tickled his ear, but he could almost taste the warm vanilla fragrance emanating from whatever shampoo she used. His breath caught as he tried not dwell on his disappointment that she was off limits, yet this close he didn’t need to raise his hushed whisper above a soft murmur.

‘So, if you slide your fingers along the length, you just have to squeeze the two little things on either side simultaneously’. She snorted out and he felt her frame shake with laughter.

‘Head out of the gutter Bishop, save it for-,’ he cut off his razor-sharp retort, immediately chastising himself for his harsh tone as her body stiffened again at his rebuke.

_Fuck Torres! Bigger issues today than being pissed off!_

‘Bishop, I’m sorry…look when we get out of this I promise, we’ll talk ok?’

She huffed a breath and he saw her bob her head.

Yeah, they would have to talk.

If they both got out of this alive.


	4. Resist, escape, evade.

In any other scenario, it would be foreplay.

Tied up by killer kidnappers in the trunk of a car going god knows where kinda took the romantic gloss off it all though.

She knew Nick was struggling to cope with her fingers essentially giving him an appetizer to a hand-job, well, as close to one as was ever to be likely, considering how their friendship, partnership…relationship was in tatters. She really did try not to add to his obvious difficulties, but the ligatures cut in deep every time she twisted her wrists to get a better grip on the damn buckle. Her right hand was aching, she worried she might have even broken something in it, it felt horribly swollen. Every time the car jostled over a bump or changed speed she had to start over again, locating the essential metal piece and trying to avoid the other _item_ that was fairly filling the space.

She literally had to feel her way. She was also working blind, in reverse, with freezing, blood-deprived fingers and still seeing stars every time she blinked.

All in all, she was quite proud of herself when the buckle finally released, and Nick ejaculated out his fervent prayer. She knew her completely utilitarian actions had probably teased him beyond the capacity of standard male endurance, no matter how mad he was with her. She had discovered he was enormously affected by the procedure and couldn’t help but snigger at the absurdity of the whole situation when he concisely explained how to pull out the blade.

‘…save it for-’ he was going to say, _husband_.

Her body went rigid with pure rage, not with Nick. He was innocent; collateral damage, she deserved his wrath.

Jake.

She was screaming on the inside, her head already throbbing from the pistol-whipping now pulsated with her suppressed shrieks. She felt like she was going to be sick and had to huff air rapidly through her nostrils to calm herself at the thought of choking on her own vomit with the gag still in place. She mulled over giving Nick the signal to tear it off but the thought of him, anyone, close to her face as she was feeling so close to hurling had her counting to twenty in ten different languages, forward and back, backwards and forwards until she had control again.

A stinging cut on her index finger indicated she had finally freed the knife.

‘Yes! Thank you, Jesus! Amazing job B!’ he congratulated her with an enthusiastic hoarse whisper. Her heart glowed a little at his use of his familiar pet name for her. ‘Now, I’ve been thinking about it, you’re smaller than me so could you maybe roll over me then can cut me out first?’

Of course, his shoulder must be killing him, she hoped the knife wound had stopped bleeding.

She nodded, even though her stomach heaved at the idea of moving away from the tiny draft of fresh air drifting in around the door seal. She had never been claustrophobic; she didn’t want to analyse her thoughts on that front just now though. It was time to get out of this space now.

She awkwardly shimmied herself over, her chest flush to Nick’s chest as he tried his best to lie as flat as he could, probably crushing his own hands and letting his bindings cut deeper. At the midway point, their faces were so close their lips would have brushed if it weren’t for the damn gag. All the same, the second-day stubble on his face rasped against the soft skin of her cheek, a sound and textured sensation that was just as erotic as she had imagined it might be.

Her ribcage heaved in the effort of movement and she’d be lying if her breathing wasn’t erratic because the whole length of her body was pressed along Nick’s. The metallic jingling of his open belt buckle combined with the obvious protuberance of rigid firmness in his crotch as she moved against him, was just so evocative, so suggestive, it had both their minds’ someplace else…somewhere _together_.

In the dim light, she saw Nick firmly squeeze his eyes shut and felt his chest freeze until she slipped over him and assumed the position needed to start cutting his bonds.

It took a while; her fingers were no more dexterous now than they had been trying to unbuckle him. With tenacious persistence, working through the stinging pain of small lacerations to her own fingers and those she inflicted on a flinching Nick as her own cords agonisingly slashing into the delicate skin of her wrists, but eventually, a slick cable sprung loose and his hands were free.

Stifling a moan as he stretched out his arms after so long a confinement he quickly turned around and retrieved the thumb-sized blade from her bloodied fingers. He ran his hands over the mess of tangled loops painfully constricting her wrists and started the tricky process of cutting through without slicing her whilst the car juddered and rocked on an ever-increasingly bumpy road.

‘Finally, you answered your damn phone, what the fuck Jace!’ the angry, yokle-accented voice came from the front of the car.

Nick stalled in his efforts for a couple of seconds, both of them straining to hear the voice of their captor for the first time since waking up in the trunk. It was an odd, one-sided conversation as he halted to listen and then barked back to the other person on the phone.

‘It all went to shit, Daryl’s dead…. yeah, I have the money, but didn’t you just hear me, Daryl is _dead_!... fucked if I know… I was going to but then she went all crazy fucking ninja when he knocked the cop guy out. Screamed the damn place down, bitch damn near broke my fucking nose…’

Ellie saw it all clearly in her mind, the panic as the air stopped moving in her lungs, the pain as the guy’s huge paw crushed her neck. Thinking rapidly as the dizziness increased, she played possum, pretending to go unconscious but then Nick was there at the door. She could plainly see the other goon coming up behind him, but she had no way to let him know. Daryl hit Nick hard and her partner collapsed in a heap and for just a second Ellie saw the guy point the gun at Nick’s head, ready to pull the trigger. Panic hit her like a thunderbolt.

Something detonated within her.

While there was a breath left in her, she would not let Nick die.

So yeah, she went ‘all crazy fucking ninja’ knowing her fight-back might just distract them both enough to save Nick. She kicked, bit, punched and screeched, clawing at her captor’s face until Daryl came to help control her.

But they didn’t expect _skill_ ; men always underestimated her, taking her for a dumb blonde pushover. She played it to her advantage, neatly twisting herself out of his grip, disarming him and firing at the approaching Daryl.

Three shots centre chest, he went down like a sack of spuds. She got a punch in the face then that sent her crashing to the cement floor, but it was worth it. When she shook out the spinning from her head, her hands were tied behind her back and the guy was placing tape over her mouth.

‘You’ll shut the fuck up now blondie, or he’ll get what’s meant for you’ he growled up close to her face, his fetid breath turning her already queasy stomach. She glanced over to Nick who still lay in a crumpled heap at the door, blood trickling down his collar from the bump to the back of his head. The guy lashed a plastic cord around his wrists and pulled it tight.

Sneering at her he took a knife out of his boot and stuck it deep into Nick’s upper arm, causing him to groan even in his unconscious state. She couldn’t even scream as the guy hit her with the butt of his gun and the world went dark.

‘She got the damn gun off of me and shot him… yeah, well I thought I’d bring them both along… we can do that, that old well is plenty deep for the two of them. But I’m keeping the girl for a while, Jace, she’s a pretty little vixen…something to play with until the storm passes… mom always said we had to share our toys!’ He started chortling a laugh then like he had said the wittiest thing.

Nick stopped what he was doing.

‘I will _never_ let that happen Ellie’ he promised fiercely his lips close to her ear and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. He went back to the ties then with a little more urgency and a little less trepidation that he might hurt her.

Their captor was still laughing blurting out more information, and Ellie tried to memorise the details, knowing any little thing could be useful. It also kept her mind off the stinging gashes of the cords on her flesh and the bitter taste of anxiety-induced bile burning the back of her throat.

Three of them; their nameless driver, his brother Jace on the phone, and dead Daryl. They had killed the bank managerThomas Simons who had been part of their bank-robbing crew somehow and now they had all the money from the heists in some back-country shack. And they were going to rape her, then kill her and Nick both and shove their corpses down an old well. Lovely!

‘Look the going is getting tough here, the snow is thickening up and I don’t have chains on. It’ll be another half hour at this rate til I get to the trailhead, meet you there… Five days til Margaritaville, yeeha!’ Jace must have been talking for a while then because their guy was all laughing and uh-humming.

‘Well that’s just easy Jace, she’s obviously sweet on him, I bet if we cut off a couple of his fingers, she’ll do _that_ for ya willingly! Fuck we could top ’n tail haaa!!’ and he broke into raucous laughter.

Ellie felt sick again. She had to get out of this coffin box. She couldn’t breathe. She strained against the bonds tying her as panic set in. Even Nick shushing her was useless, she couldn’t breathe.

Seconds later Nick finally cut her free and rolling onto her back she desperately tried to remove the duct tape from her mouth, but her fingers were numb with cold and clumsy with terror.

Nick gently moved her scrabbling hands away and tugged the tape away, hissing apologies to her. She didn’t care that it pulled the skin off her lips she just gulped in glorious mouthfuls of air and tried to calm the sobs that were shuddering her chest.

‘Breathe Ellie, just breathe’ he held her head in his hands and planted a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’re ok, I’ll get us out of this, I promise ok?’

‘Ok’ she croaked, her raspy voice sounding foreign to her ears. Once he was sure her erratic breathing had steadied, he started silently searching the boot for anything they could use as a tool, weapon, a means of escape.

They had less than 20 minutes tops until they reached Jace, they had to make their move soon. Nick whistled quietly in success as he pulled away a side panel and released the factory-issue puncture kit, complete with a small wheel-brace crowbar. Tinkering away some more he popped out the whole rear side light fitting and the boot was suddenly filled with bright, white, snowy daylight and a gust of wonderfully fresh, freezing air.

Maybe a random patrol car would see the busted light and pull their kidnapper over? Peeking out through the opening Ellie’s hopes were dashed on that front. They seemed to be on a narrow country road now, evergreen forests looming on either side, no other cars were visible and theirs were the only tyre tracks treaded through the deepening snow. Her eyes watered with the frigid wind whistling through the aperture and it was soon impossible to ignore the freezing temperature of their confined space.

Nick huddled up to her, his arm clutching their new tool draped over her. She rolled up tighter into a tense ball her back flush to his chest and he automatically curled around her sharing his body heat. Heads together they urgently tried to thrash out a plan. If he forced the hinge or lock of the trunk the dude would know of it fairly quickly and he would most likely shoot them; the car already echoed in silence as the asphalt road sounds had fallen away to just a dull muffled crunch of the snow underneath. Other option: call him out and whack him with the crowbar when he stopped and popped the boot, again risking being shot first. Neither option was very appealing, but they decided to chance the first plan; as quietly as possible force it open, then roll out and hope he kept on driving none the wiser.

Adrenaline pumped through Ellie’s exhausted body as Nick nimbly climbed over her and positioned himself at the exit, about ready to force the lock. His hand slipped off the crowbar as the car started to erratically weave sideways, its tyres slipping and sliding, losing traction. Nick grabbed her and pulled her close to his chest his hands bracing her head protectively as the car veered sharply and banked left.

Expletive, foul-language bawling came from their driver as the car began to careen down a bank, throwing their bodies from side to bruising side until they came to a horrible tilted stop.

Seconds later freezing icy water started welling up through the floor and gushing past the seating at the back of the trunk. Involuntarily she let a terrified squeal as the bitterly cold water splashed over her back and soaked through her clothes.

She didn’t have to tell Nick they needed out, _now._

Three attempts later Nick was growling in the effort to disengage the locking mechanism when water started spilling in through the vacant light fitting.

The car was sinking, filling with water, they’d be totally submerged in minutes.

She was going to drown. She was locked in a coffin car and she was going to die in the darkness without air. Impulsively she grabbed hold of a fistful of Nick’s jacket and scrunched her eyes shut against the biting sting of the glacial water lapping her skin, desperately trying to block it all out.

She didn’t even notice he had gotten the boot open until she felt him dragging her out, her cramped cold muscles refusing to move.

‘Ellie, _move_!’ he bellowed at her trying to shake her from her daze ‘Wade to the shore! Go, Ellie, don’t stop!’. She was chest-deep in pond water, pieces of floating sheet ice bobbed around her as she struggled to make her legs stride against the weight of the water. Then she was crawling onto crackling thicker, ice dotted with clumps of rustling dead reeds.

Ellie gasped and gulped in ragged breaths as if no air would ever be enough, she was on her knees in the snow, frozen mud welling up between her bloodied fingers, her stomach rolling as she retched up water and bile, again and again. Finally empty, she tried to tuck her frozen dreadlocks of hair back behind her ears, but her fingers were clumsy with the numbing cold and uncontrollable shivering that shook her to her core.

Glancing back over her shoulder she saw the car lurching precariously, one side almost totally under now, the single red tail-light still illuminated deep in the murky pond water. Nick had tried to reach the driver, maybe in the hopes of getting a phone or a weapon like they had discussed. The scream froze in her mouth as she saw the guy crawl out through the smashed windscreen turn and faced them arm aloft. Nick saw it too and scrambled for the shore.

He was just beside her as the shooting started.

Nick threw himself on top of her, shielding her body with his own, pressing her flat into the snow as bullets bit into the ground around them. The guy ceased fire suddenly and roaring at them in defiance they heard him starting to splash in the water.

Nick shouted at her, his voice ringing sharply in her ears. ‘Bishop, _move_! Come on! _Move_!’. She tried to obey but her legs just wouldn’t cooperate. Nick grabbed her by the waist and hauled her up. ‘Bishop! We’ve got to move, _now_! If he reaches the shore-,’

She willed her body into action knowing she was probably concussed from the wallops earlier that day, the pain in her head growing past the dull throb to a nauseating pulse, her vision flashing and failing around the peripheries.

And it was just so _cold_.

No longer in the sheltered confines of the boot, she noticed the wind had picked up, the dark, tall conifer trees into which Nick was dragging her swayed and sighed as the gusts whipped through them. Nick seemed to have a plan, so she let him guide her footsteps, calf-deep now in the snow. He was talking to her, coaxing and encouraging her to keep going, his grip becoming tighter and tighter on her waist.

She got sick again. Nick held her hair back and rubbed her back but then mercilessly made her walk again.

She had no idea how long they trudged through the snow, tripping on stray branches hidden under the deepening whiteness that was hurting her eyes. It was just too bright.

Then it was snowing again. Flakes started out as pretty, fluffy, gentle feathers on her skin but soon they turned to ruthless, hard pellets stinging every inch of exposed flesh, driven on by a bitter, sustained wind.

She could feel her blood cool and turn sluggish; her skin become icy and numb. Her wet clothes stuck to her body, the chill pinpricking her with nasty little needles. They shouldn't have come this way, not in this weather. This wasn’t the way home. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She giggled as the image of them being trapped in a snow-globe being all shook up popped into her head. She saw Nick’s face then all worried and his lips moved saying something to her urgently, but she couldn’t make out what he said.

‘Nick, let me just rest for a minute’ her words sounded weird, garbled and slurred.

And then he was carrying her, his strong arms under her knees and around her back, holding her close to him.

His chest felt cold against her cheek. That was strange. Nick was the warmest person she knew.

He smelled lovely though, just like her Nick.

She closed her eyes for just a minute.

Just a minute.


	5. Get dry, Stay warm

Nick kept going, trudging through the snow with Ellie hoisted up in his arms, pulled tight against his chest as the wind wailed above them.

He had to keep going, away from the road, deeper into the woods, away from the hillbilly scumbag who was probably on their heels having reached the shore by now. He strained his ears trying to pick up any sounds of footsteps on their tail, but it was impossible to hear anything above the whistling and creaking of the trees in the roaring storm. He kept veering right, his thinking being that the car direction was heading _left_ along the road towards scumbag number two before it careened into the pond.

One footstep after another, head down, teeth gritted, even in the relative shelter of the forest the snow was well over his ankles now, his footprints rapidly filling up, covering their tracks for which he was grateful yet anxious.

The storm was getting worse.

He thought about loads of random stuff, running his mind over everything that had happened in the trunk and since, as he slogged along, anything to keep his mind off the inhumane cold and the burning in his arm muscles as he struggled to keep carrying her.

Nick had played with various theories about why they had been kidnapped; as leverage, bargaining chips, hell even for ransom but, as he had listened to the dickhead pretty much spell out their torture and rape plans, his stomach lurched ominously.

They had to get out of that car trunk.

He tried to keep his mind on the job of cutting through her bindings, sick with worry but at the same time so intensely proud of Ellie that she had fought so hard, to protect him, because he had been hurt …because she was ‘sweet on him’…

_Married Torres, off fucking limits!_

It didn’t matter anymore, he had to get her free and away from the impending horror movie planned out for her. He didn’t care so much being cut up…but to be used to make Ellie comply with their twisted sick fantasies-?

_Nope, not fucking happening!_

He felt her breathing become laboured and uneven, snarling frightened sounds choked in her throat as the gag stifled her screams. He knew it was a panic attack and she was way past the point where his shushed reassurances would help.

Finally, the cord gave way, releasing her, and her bloodied hands were clawing at the tape covering her mouth, her entire body trembling and head tossing about as she tried to remove it. Brushing her hands away he deftly tugged the tape off as gently as he could and she sobbed rapid, heaving breaths. Even in the dim light, he could see her terrified eyes flicker around the trunk.

‘Breathe Ellie, just breathe’ he pleaded with her, desperately trying to calm her. He cupped her head in his hands, gently brushing back her frazzled hair from her tear and blood speckled face.

Impulsively he kissed her on the forehead, his lips burned with the brief contact.

‘You’re ok, I’ll get us out of this, I _promise_ , ok?’ and he felt it, the palpable easing of her body against his as she blinked and locked her trusting eyes on his, grounding herself with steadying, slow lungfuls mirroring his own. Her gravelly reply reminded him that the guy had almost crushed her neck only a few hours before. He’d pay for that, but now was not the time for planning petty revenge, they needed to get the fuck out of Dodge.

Finding the wheel brace was a game-changer. Wriggling around her he managed to pop out the rear light fitting with the crowbar end of the tool. Finally, they could see out, try to figure out where they were, and the fresh air was invigorating. The cold that blew in the new opening was, however, _brutal_ and Ellie slowly caved in on herself, her last reserves waning.

Trying his best to keep her warm and her mind busy he curled himself around her and sought her opinions on their escape plan options. None were without risk, most ideas instantly dismissed as a suicide gig.

But time was running out. Doing the maths, they had maybe ten minutes now before the second guy would be on the scene.

Plan A was a-go when he felt something slip, the tyres beneath them spinning without purchase and the whole car sped up listing precariously. Instinctively he pulled Ellie against his chest and wrapped his body around her as they were slammed hard in the confined space.

Then the water came in.

Time was up.

With single-minded, pure brute strength he eventually forced the lock. The sudden, brilliant daylight blinded him as he hauled himself out into the freezing water, dragging a near-catatonic Ellie with him. He had hoped the guy’s face would be smashed through the glass or at least knocked out by his airbag, leaving a couple of seconds to maybe grab his gun or even better the phone but no, seems the thick-headed bastard was unhurt and was now just spitting mad.

Avoiding the shots and yanking Bishop out of the frozen mud they made for the densely packed woods on the far side of the narrow road and just doggedly kept going.

It was the only chance they had.

He stopped for a couple of moments and adjusted her again in his arms. She was completely out of it now, snuggled tightly against his chest, her exposed cheek was mottled and swollen with a bruise and her hair matted with blood. Snowflakes and ice crystals sparkled like diamonds on her eyelashes. She was a deathly shade of pale, her lips and fingers tinged with a horrible shade of lilac mauve. He knew once she started vomiting things were bad, but then her words slurred, and her eyes became glazed and she couldn’t go on. Concussion, panic and hypothermia- not a good combination.

But he had promised to get her out of this, so shifting her weight again, he continued onwards.

They would have to find shelter soon, they were both soaking wet from the pond, their clothes stiffening with ice. The tall conifers did little to protect them from the howling wind that whipped up as much snow as it threw down. Flexing his numb fingers, he tried to come up with a realistic plan; a sheltered gully maybe or a rock crevice even might get them out of the wind for a while, but they needed something better. This storm was forecast to last for days. Without a fire and real shelter, they wouldn’t last the next couple of hours never mind til it passed over.

The light was failing; was it so late in the afternoon already? He wasn’t really sure what direction he was heading in now, the muffled light didn’t even cast shadows and the bleak woodland all looked the same. Cursing colourfully in his native tongue he ploughed on knowing disorientation could have him doubling back on himself but not having any other option _but_ to keep going.

He was beyond exhausted now; he’d pushed past whatever endurance and pain limits he had ever had a long time ago. Turning his body to protect his face and hers from the driving snow he thought he was imagining it at first, his eyes blurry with splinters of icy tears.

A couple of hundred meters more and he was thanking every god, saint and angel he knew of.

A cabin.

With a last burst of energy, he waded over the clearing, assessing the old wooden structure and various outhouses for signs of life, or danger.

Either way he was taking the risk.

Stepping up onto the covered porch he saw a carved bench and he laid Ellie down on that while he rapidly scoped out the quaint, traditional lodge-house. It was a decent size, in good repair though seemed to be locked up for the season going by the leaf drifts on the decking and the cobwebs covering the doorframe and closed window shutters.

Willing his numbed hands to cooperate he pulled the crowbar out of his belt and forced the padlock. A simple sliding mechanism released the latch. Pushing the well-oiled door open he took in the rustic, wooden furniture in what looked like a single large dimly lit room.

And a solid fuel stove set in a stone fireplace, a basket of kindling and split logs neatly stacked beside it.

Hoisting Ellie back up into his protesting arms he hurried inside and deposited her still frame on the leather armchair and slamming the door shut against the wind he shoved the wooden bolt across to secure it.

Out of the cold even for those few short seconds his body started shivering again, he would give anything just to curl up and sleep but he clenched his fists knowing he had work to do if they were both to survive their varied levels of hypothermia. He didn’t want to think about if it was already too late for Bishop.

Opening the stove, he saw whoever owned the house was a fucking legend! They had the grate set with firelighters, kindling and small sticks ready to be lit and on the mantle sat a box of matches and candles. He struggled to get his shaking hands to comply, taking three attempts to finally strike up and light the edge of the tinder paper.

Fire started he kept moving about, enduring the burning pain of walking on his frozen feet just starting to swell in his frozen sodden boots. Looking around he took in the simple kitchen area, a small table covered in a floral oilcloth with a bench and stools, the leather armchairs around the fireplace and a large bed fully made up with linens.

They had to get out of their iced wet clothes. He had to get Ellie warm.

Blowing on his hands and rubbing them briskly together in an attempt to warm them, he touched her cheek to try to wake her, but she was fast asleep or unconscious; he decided to go with asleep. He knew he’d have to undress her out of everything wet and as he had seen the pond water lap up to her chest…that meant _everything_.

But this was Survival 101; get dry, stay warm.

She didn’t budge as he pulled off her boots or her crisp socks, he decided not to pay attention to the corpse-like colour of her feet; images on cadavers in Jimmy’s lab had to be firmly pushed away. He sat her up and dragged her jacket off her shoulders, next he pulled her jumper over her head revealing a cold wet tee-shirt that clung to her chest highlighting the outline of a pale bra underneath. His hands shook and not just with the cold as he started to unbutton her jeans, the denim brittle and coarse with frost.

She murmured then, and Nick’s heart leapt.

‘Come on Bishop, open your eyes, please cariño, wake up!’ she seemed to have fallen back asleep again, but he hoped his voice was reaching some level of her consciousness. ‘I have to undress you out of your wet stuff, ok? Just bear with me while I sort these last few things then there’s a bed and blankets and you’ll be ok , ok?’ he couldn’t keep the worry from his voice as he tried his best to speak to her calmly past the growing chattering of his teeth.

The air in the cabin was still frigid, his breath causing clouds of steam with each puff as he struggled to pull the jeans off her with his clumsy hands. She was mumbling again, complaining moans as more skin was exposed to the cold. Finally, with them off, he sat her up again, leaning her floppy body against his thigh so he could pull her top off she suddenly jerked away from him.

‘Stop Jake you’re hurting me!’ Nick froze as her hand gripped her tee pulling it back and her other pushed him away.

‘Ellie, it’s Nick, I’m trying to help…’ he tried pulling the hem again and a look of dread crossed her face.

‘Please Jake, don’t…’ she sobbed until her body sagged limply against him in sleep.

_What the actual fuck?_

Nick’s hackles were bristling.

He grabbed the fleecy throw from the back of the chair and covered her somewhat for modesty as he finally tugged the top over her head, undid her bra and hauling her up carried her to the bed that appeared to be made up with neatly folded, clean sheets and heavy patchwork quilts. Pulling them over her he deftly reached in and tugged her damp underwear off down her cold clammy legs too. She moaned again and rolled up into a ball, away from his touch.

Afraid, anxious, defending herself? 

He knew in his heart right then something was off, _way off_.

But he himself was rapidly falling apart, and the sudden adrenaline crash nearly dropped him to his knees. She was alive and responsive but unaware that it was even him. He staggered back to the stove now crackling with merry flames and filled the grate to capacity with split logs before closing the glass door over allowing the black metal appliance to heat up and radiate warmth around the whole cabin.

The orange flickering glow of the fire flooded over Ellie’s pale face buried in the pillow. She looked so fragile. He thought back to the glittery frosting on her beautiful face earlier, wasn’t that in a movie? Nick believed she always sparkled.

_I’m in love with a fairytale!_

But he knew loving her was a losing game.

He was jaded with tiredness, but he stripped himself naked in front of the fledgeling fire figuring he couldn’t get any colder and laid out their damp clothes on the chairs to dry before the shuddering shivers took over. Wincing on painful bare feet over the rough floor mats, he crawled in under the cold bedsheets. Bracing himself, he wrapped a glacial Ellie in his arms pulling her chest flush with his own and sandwiching her clenched fists between them. Chafing her skin to warm her even though her body chilled his own and leeched away what little heat his recent activity had created, he tucked her cold head under his chin.

His shivering and teeth-chattering would wake the dead, but it occurred to him Ellie had none of those natural responses. He tried to think back to basic training, first aid for hypothermia, all the body temperature readings that meant things were bad, shitty or completely fucked. Core temps were important but without a thermometer, he’d have to guess a ball-park. He dipped his hand between them, her abdomen was cool to the touch. The class instructor had been clear; _core_ readings, rectal was best.

_Well that’s a hard no!_

‘Ellie, you can punch me tomorrow, but I have to check’ he whispered apologetically closing his eyes tight against the thought of invading her _very_ personal space. Clinically, he slipped his firm, flat hand along her groin and between her legs, avoiding everything that he could possibly avoid and assessed her upper inner thigh area.

Definitely warmer and he could feel her femoral pulse, slow but steady.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he whipped his hand away and instead kneed open her legs and pushed his thigh in between, positioning her warmest bits to his own hoping to speed up her thawing out. In any other scenario, this would be either flat out erotic or downright inappropriate, but this was for purely lifesaving medical reasons.

Anyways he knew his own soldier, so uncontrollably alert and active earlier at her proximity, had now decided to retreat and bunker-down in protest at the ridiculous assault of her coldness. He’d share what warmth he had to make it through or they’d both go down together.

He tugged the quilts up over them, burying them deep under their cocooning weight. They were melded together now and counting along with the slow, shallow rise and fall of her chest against his own he fell asleep as the cabin rattled and creaked in the artic storm raging around them.


	6. Assess for injuries

She hated when he got like this.

Insistent.

She loathed his habit of shaking her awake with his pinching and pulling, rousing her from her deep, contented dreams, where warm arms protected her and a low soft voice comforted her. He claimed she liked it rough, especially when he randomly wanted her in the middle of the night; she really didn’t.

Jake had never asked her opinion.

But it was Nick who spoke to her now. Nick would never hurt her.

‘Come on Bishop, open your eyes, please cariño, wake up!’ that was the soothing voice she loved.

But then Jake was there tearing her clothes off again, hurting her.

She pushed him away this time.

Her mind was a jumble of frozen images; billowing snow, dark trees, Nick’s stubbled chin, his black shirt buttons, feeling sleepy and overwhelmingly, painfully _cold_.

Now she was warm, cosy even, enveloped in a world softness and comfort that smelled familiar and safe. Her face burrowed deep into the fleshy heat source and arms tightened around her. Ellie shut off the tiny curious voice in her usually multi-tasking mind and sunk back down into heavenly bliss. If this was another _Nick_ dream, she really didn’t want to wake up. She’d been having _those_ dreams more and more over the past months. They followed a similar idyllic trajectory; touching, caressing and gentle rocking together, always warm, always a shared closeness that just felt right.

Somewhere deep in the twilight zone of her dreams, she sensed a low rumbling growl against her cheek, heard fragments of muttered prayers. The vibrating murmur hummed in a resonance her body instinctively responded to. A delicious heat welled up, flooding her centre. Now all she needed was his heat. She needed to pull the warmth closer to her, just to get nearer, to feel it inside her…

‘Uh, Ellie?... Whoa! Fuck, shit… holy mother of god!’ a pleading voiced hissed… _his_ voice, Nick. Strong hands were rolling her then, away, cooling the aching warmth. She grumbled over the frustrating loss, the dream hadn’t finished yet, the ending was the best bit. Disappointment chilled her some more.

The heat was gone but a warm hand brushed back her hair softly and a palm felt her forehead, just like when she was sick as a kid. She hadn’t felt such a comforting touch in so long, waves of sudden loneliness and heartache inundated her, and she sunk into a deeper darker realm full of regrets, doubt and loss.

Her mouth was so dry, despite trying to swallow her tongue felt sticky and furry at the same time. Everything ached and trying to stretch out her cramped muscles she realised she was rolled up snug like the filling of a blanket burrito. Logrolling herself she landed herself against something solid and even before forcing her swollen eyes open, she knew it was Nick. She felt the weight of his arm lift off her hip as he hauled himself up out of his own pile of quilts, giving her a rapid visual inspection.

‘Bishop! You’re awake! Are you ok?’ he rubbed his hands roughly over his face making that raspy noise that she _really_ liked.

She nodded not trusting her voice yet, her throat felt like sandpaper.

His relieved smile lit up the room, a completely unknown room and flicking her eyes around she tried to put together the jumbled pieces of the jigsaw in her head; tied up, car boot, cold and now a cabin by the looks of the huge, wooden beam rafters, traditional stove and rustic furniture.

‘Could you manage a drink? There’s not much here but I can make you some honeyed tea?’

‘Sounds amazing’ she croaked out, her throat really was raw. She closed her eyes again and tried to assess herself for damages. Painful neck muscles, headache, sore throat, burning wrists, stiff swollen fingers, aching all over and as weak as a kitten.

Manageable, and could have been a hell of a lot worse, like dead worse.

She glanced over to Nick feeling the bed sag as he got up and, in the process, caught an eyeful of his very naked, very perfect body.

In all its glory.

Reflexively she sucked in a sharp breath and shut her eyes tight but the throat clearing cough said he had copped her looking and her cheeks burned. She kept them closed, dodging his doubtless smirking smile, and could hear the shrill squeak of a metal hinge and then the thuds as he added logs to the fire. She heard his feet pad along a creaking wooden floor and then clattering and rustling in the far corner of the room. She still felt so drowsy and sleep would take her soon again if she let it, but the promise of a sweet, warm drink held her in place. A whistling kettle, pouring and a teaspoon being stirred in a mug and then Nick was shaking her shoulder to wake her.

‘…so luckily we found this place, the storm is still full blizzard out there, it’s like 6am now so it’s been going since yesterday afternoon. There’s no electricity that I can tell but I’ve lit some candles and there’s a propane stove. The water-pump must be heated too because that’s still running…’ he was chatting away, but words were just flooding over her, ‘… loads of wood to keep us going…’ He put the steaming mug on the locker beside the bed.

‘Uh, you might need some help, I wrapped up you fairly tight’ Nick avoided her eyes as he carefully tugged the bedding away from her shoulders so she could release her arms. He propped her forward and rearranged pillows behind her and just at that moment, as his _middle_ filled her limited field of vision, she noticed he only _now_ had fitted boxers on.

And that she herself was completely naked.

A montage of foggy dream-like memories suddenly snapped into clear recollection.

_Oh My God!_

She pulled the sheet higher up over her naked chest and saw Nick look away swiftly. Sitting down beside her hip and he slowly passed her the mug, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly ‘Erm, I should probably let you know…’

‘Nick, did we…?’ she interrupted him in a panic.

His face changed; a horrified look passed over rapidly replaced by an angry, _hurt_ one.

‘What the fuck do you take me for, Bishop? No, _we_ didn’t, and I did _not_ do anything but what was strictly necessary to keep you alive!’ His eyes bored into hers, drilling home his emphatic denial.

‘God _no,_ Nick please! I know _you_ would _never_ , ever… I just mean’ her face scorched now with embarrassment, she was so mortified she covered her face with her free hand. ‘ _I_ um, may have been …look, I was having weird dreams and if I um was a little…’ she flicked her finger between them both indicating her liability in anything that may have transpired.

Placated that she wasn’t accusing him of impropriety, his face became carefully neutral and he gave a tight smile, ‘nothing happened Bishop, relax’.

She knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth, that he was trying to save her blushes and she squirmed at her hazy memory of grinding against, she was fairly certain, his thigh, and worse, possibly even his…

_Oh God!_

Her attempts to dampen down her burning cheeks or the glow that had ignited further south had to be given up as abject failures.

Resolutely, she bobbed her head and took a sip of the gloriously sweet tea, letting out an involuntary sigh of appreciation.

He looked at her closely then. ‘Yesterday…’ she saw him swallow distractedly, ‘last night, you were so cold, there were times I thought-,’ he swallowed again. He thought she was dead. ‘You had me worried Bishop’ he said it so plainly she knew it was true.

‘Thank you, Nick, for taking care of me’ she dropped her hand onto his forearm to give just a squeeze in gratitude, and she flinched. Nick saw it too and only then looked at the mess that yesterday had made of her hands, now crusted with dried blood from knife nicks, swollen with defensive wounds from fighting back and lacerated with skinned welts around her wrists.

‘Finish your tea, and then we need to clean those hand injuries’ he frowned, tipping up her chin gently to look at her no doubt flamboyantly multicoloured neck bruising. Her skin bruised like a peach. He tugged the blankets back up and tucked her in again so that only her hands and the mug were exposed. She did as she was told and happily slurped back the hot liquid feeling its warm glow radiate through her chest as it hit her very empty stomach.

He was back in a few minutes with a small basin of hot water and a decent-sized first aid kit.

‘Our clothes are still damp, but I looked about and found you this cardigan, for now. There could be more stuff in the loft area. It’s man-sized so it’ll cover your-, um you’. It was puzzling to see Nick being so diffident around her; he wasn’t his usual smart-mouthed cocky self at all. Then she remembered. They hadn’t spoken to each other, like _at all_ since the party, since Jake appeared. She really needed to talk to him but was just running on empty. It was going to be horrible and awkward dredging it all up. She was exhausted even thinking about the conversation she owed Nick.

Taking the now empty mug Nick leaned her forward again and swung the massive, burgundy woolly garment around her shoulders, waiting for her to push her arms through and averted his eyes until she had it wrapped across her chest. _His_ chest was still flagrantly bare, as were his legs…and thighs. Although the stove had taken the chill out of the room it was by no means balmy. Nick seemed to be naturally, inexplicably, warm.

With the corner of a clean towel he gently washed off the blood and dabbed at the cuts until he was satisfied. He cleaned off the remaining blood on her temple too but most of that had been smeared on her pillow by the looks of it. He then smoothed on some stinging eucalyptus-scented antibacterial cream, gently blowing on it til it stopped smarting, and then bandaged both wrists, Band-aiding a couple of the deeper finger slashes.

In those five minutes Nick showed her more care and attention than her husband had shown her in last five years or more.

Tears welled up in her eyes, ‘Sorry, I know it hurts but-,’

‘It’s fine Nick, thank you’.

Nick just nodded silently in acknowledgment and then drew in a slow steadying breath.

‘Ellie, I um, need to ask you something’. His voice was hesitant, and she noticed he was still holding her hand. She looked into his eyes and they were filled with anguish. ‘I noticed some bruising on your shoulders and …further down. Did that guy… _hurt_ you? Do we need to get you to a hospital or a _special_ clinic?’

It dawned on her then; Nick had seen the bite marks Jake had gifted her during his Christmas visit. In this light, against her pale skin, he couldn’t see the bruises had already turned an ugly green. He was asking had she been sexually assaulted, because that’s what it probably looked like to a normal person.

‘No Nick, nothing like that’ she whispered, pulling the cardigan tighter around herself. His eyes roamed over her features for quite a while before he spoke again.

‘Ok, well you’re all done’. He stood up and started tidying away dressing wrappers and the bloodied towel.

‘Thanks, Nick. Sit, now your turn’ she said with determination, trying desperately to change the suddenly fraught vibe between them. Nick looked exhausted and his wrists were a congealed bloody mess like her own.

‘I’m fine Bishop-,’

‘Shush, you’re not fine, you’re about ready to fall down. Sit, please?’

He did as she asked, perching himself on the edge of the mattress. She pushed the quilts back and hauled herself up until she was standing Bambi-legged at the side of the bed. She used his shoulder to steady herself for a moment, as she felt Nick’s hand against her hip propping her upright.

‘Ok?’ his other arm was braced in front of her, ready to catch her if she tumbled.

‘Yeah, a little woozy, but good. So, while I get a kettle going, please tell me there’s a bathroom or is it just an outhouse?’ she grimaced thinking of the splintering cold of a bare-legged adventure outdoors.

‘There a room off the utility at the back door, it’s kind of an eco-toilet maybe? You’ll need to bring a candle though’

‘Yes!’ she fist-pumped the air and Nick gave a throaty laugh at her childlike delight.

The floor wasn’t as cold as she expected, mostly covered in homemade rag-rugs. And the soft wool cardigan covered her down to just above her knees almost wrapping twice around her petite frame; with a nice belt she could maybe even rock it as a jumper-dress. The small loo room contained a modern composting unit and unfortunately a mirror. The side of her face and neck were a rainbow of marks, scuffs and bruises. She quickly braided her hair as best she could with less than nimble fingers and back in the kitchen she even found a decorative jar ribbon to secure the plait.

Bringing the fresh basin back over to the bed, she found Nick already dozing in the warm spot she had just vacated. Shushing him back to sleep, she gently washed his wrists then wiped away the trail of crusted blood that led from his grazed scalp down his neck. She pointedly ignored the dark, lip-shaped bruise just below his ear. Next she pressed gently on his shoulder wound, it seemed to have almost closed over itself, the blade must have been narrow, she wasn’t sure how deep it went but she smeared on some first aid cream there too, it couldn’t hurt, and covered it with a clean dressing.

Nick was sitting up against her pillows, his toned, bare chest rising and falling rhythmically as he snored peacefully. Even with dark shadows smudged under his eyes and a heavier than normal beard he was still the most gorgeous guy she knew. Her lips itched to lean forward and press a kiss on his.

But that was not allowed.

Instead she pulled the quilts back over them both and she snuggled up against his uninjured shoulder. The wind whistled and wailed around the gables and hard beads of icy snow pelted against the shuttered windows; the dawn wasn’t too far off, the cabin looked dim rather than dark now. Watching the flames dance behind the glass of the stove door she fell back asleep.

She awoke with a start to find the bed empty and sitting up too quickly her head spun again.

‘Nick?’

‘Here, just about done cooking us something’ he arrived back from the kitchen, wearing his tight tee-shirt now she noticed, with two bowls of something that smelled delicious even if her stomach dipped and dived with dizziness.

‘I found a bag of pasta, some dried herbs and some decent olive oil’

‘Nick you are amazing!’ she complemented him digging in, noticing a blush along his jaw line.

‘It’s fairly basic Bishop, and not to ruin the moment but we are _extremely_ limited in food. There’s a couple of jars of rice, some popping corn, some oatmeal, soup barley and red lentils. Along with a few herbs and spices, the tea and honey, that’s it’.

She knew he was worried, this storm was forecast to last almost a week, then they had to get home.

‘So, a plan; do we have one?’ she managed between mouthfuls of penne.

‘Well storm’s still hitting us hard but if there’s a break I think we should search the outhouses I saw around the place, there might be something useful, bring in more wood for the fire at least, and rummage around here, maybe find a map or mail to figure out _where_ we are. I don’t even know what _state_ we’re in’ he added in exasperation.

She nodded her head in agreement and continued chewing, ‘Gibbs must be going crazy, Rule 3’

‘ _Never be unreachable’_ they both quoted in unison, then laughed.

‘Your husband must be going out of his mind’ Nick said it so matter of fact, like it was a given a man would worry about his wife. But she knew Nick, he was also trying to take the sting out of their row by conceding the reality of Jake.

‘I doubt it’ she shrugged noncommittally.

‘Huh?’ he looked up at her, his confusion plain to see as one eyebrow nearly reached his hairline.

‘He won’t have even missed me’ she rolled her eyes dismissively.

‘I doubt that, he seemed very _attentive_ when I saw him’ he scoffed, unable to take the bite out of his tone.

She swallowed down the last remnants of her tattered pride and whispered it.

‘He’s having an affair Nick’


	7. Food for thought

‘He’s having an affair Nick’

The words rattled through his brain as he stared at her in stunned disbelief. Words just wouldn’t form in his slack-jawed mouth. Ellie curled in on herself under his silent scrutiny.

‘No fucking way!’ he finally spluttered out, and her startled eyes flicked up to his, ‘I’m not doubting you but are you sure, no crossed wires or a misunderstanding…?’

He had no idea why he was attempting to exonerate her husband other than his own innate need to ease her distress.

‘I’m sure Nick. You remember that call I had to take outside the house before we found the body? That was his sister. He texted me during our stakeout he was staying with her for a couple of days in Boston. He wasn’t. Even _she_ knew he was lying’ she added dolefully.

‘Fucking idiot!’ He saw her flinch back, ‘ _him_ Ellie, Jesus, not _you_! He’s a fucking _idiot_! I mean, _why_...when he had _you_?’.

Even black and blue and bloodied she was the most beautiful person he knew. How fucking stupid would this asshole Jake have to be to look elsewhere when he had an amazing woman like Ellie at home?

She just shrugged and his heart broke to see her so defeated.

‘Ellie I’m so sorry, you must be devasted’ he moved up closer beside her on the edge of the bed, offering what support he could.

‘I feel nothing’

‘It’s probably shock’

‘That’s it though, I’m not even shocked. I knew something was up when he turned up that night just before Christmas, he wasn’t due a visit’

‘You two don’t _live_ together…?’ he asked cautiously, puzzling over her turn of phrase. He had never seen any evidence of a guy in her apartment anytime he was there, not even a razor or toothbrush in the bathroom, hence his stunned reaction to finding out from McGee she was even married.

‘We met when we were both at NSA, then we got married. I moved to NCIS a couple of years ago. Things changed between us; Jake doesn’t like my job. He works away a lot, legal analyst assignments in the Middle East, Kabul mostly. He comes back regularly for short stays’ her eyes were fixed down at her bandaged wrist as she picked unconsciously at the knot.

‘But you weren’t expecting him home the night of the party?’ Nick surmised astutely.

 _Wow, she was going to sneak him in whilst her husband was away working_.

Annoyed he got up, stomping over to the stove and started poking at the fire unnecessarily.

‘So, are you just mad he beat you to it?’ he sneered, ‘cheating I mean, is that what you do when he’s overseas, bring random guys home?’ his back was to her so he couldn’t judge her response.

He knew it was ridiculous even as the words came out of his mouth, but he had been so hurt since that damn party he couldn’t help lashing out.

 _‘What?_ Nick! No, I’ve never… you’re the only-,’ her voice faltered. ‘I’ve _always_ been faithful, even after last year I’ve I kept my side-,’

‘What happened last year?’ he turned around baffled.

He saw her throat swallow nervously and she started chewing on her bottom lip.

‘Jake cheated, it was before you came to NCIS’.

‘He’s cheated _before_? Ellie! What happened?’ She had gotten out of bed now and was collecting up their empty bowls. She headed to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

‘A sordid little affair is what happened Nick. After I caught _them_ , Jake and her, together, I ran home to Oklahoma. Gibbs came down and brought me back to DC. Then Jake and I talked, he apologised, and I agreed to try again’

‘Why would you do that?’ he pulled his head back in disbelief that she would put up with such disrespect.

‘I have my reasons Nick; I don’t want to talk about it, ok?’

Cogs were turning in his head, finally putting pieces of the Ellie puzzle together, that if true, was sickening.

Though initially confused by her denial that it was the hoodlum who had left those marks, as appalling as that would have been, it seemed the most reasonable explanation. Her self-conscious reaction to his question though then had him thinking that, as surprising and as out of character for the Ellie _he_ knew her to be, _maybe_ she and her husband were into _kinky_ bedroom stuff. They certainly weren’t shy in a public bar!

_You never know right?_

But his gut knew.

Putting what he knew were bite marks together with her delirious sobbing pleas for ‘Jake’ to leave her alone as he undressed her out of her wet clothes and now her muted reaction to her husband’s repeated cheating; it screamed some kind of coercive treatment.

He slowly walked over to where she was rinsing the dishes in the sink and put a gentle hand on her shoulder; the involuntary flinch gave her away, confirming his worst suspicions. He held up his hands and took a step back.

‘Ellie, those bruises… it was _Jake_ , wasn’t it?’ he felt sick even asking the question.

She crossed her arms defensively and looked at the floor. ‘It’s not what you think…’ she muttered apprehensively, not denying he was the culprit.

Nick could feel a fiery ball of fury licking around in the centre of his chest, searing his lungs.

‘Bishop, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking’ he growled in reply. The steady breathing he had been working on gave way to deeper, ribcage-heaving huffs. He ground his teeth together to stay calm, for her.

Inside his own head, he exploded with rage.

_I am going to fucking kill him._

He was already planning ten different versions of what he was going to do to her dirtbag husband when he got his hands on him, his fists curled tightly in preparation. Ellie noticed the movement too.

‘I shouldn’t have said anything’ she shook her head, her voice a little panicky. ‘Look I’m sorry for my behaviour with you at the party. I was out of line. I’m married, I should have told you that from the start. Nick, I made a promise.’

‘He’s cheated on you at least twice and he…he hurts you!’ Nick swallowed down the nausea.

‘I don’t want you to get involved, please’

‘I'm your friend, Ellie, believe me I’m _involved_ ’.

She was his world; ‘involved’ was an understatement.

‘Then I’m asking you as my friend, please Nick, let me deal with this myself’. He started to argue back but she cut him off with a trembling hand on his chest.

‘I can’t um, talk about this anymore’ she muttered weakly and looking at her face in the weak daylight streaming in from between the window shutters he could see a sheen of sweat over her pallid face. He noticed her eyes were unfocused and glazed over. Using the heel of her hand she kneaded her bruised temple and tried to grab the edge of the sink to steady herself but slipped. He caught her easily being forewarned and hoisting her up in his arms carried her back to bed against her protestations.

‘Enough Bishop, shush, no more talking, I’m sorry I stressed you out, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. Do you have a headache?’

‘More like a jackhammer tearing up my brain’ she squinted her eyes shut against even the dull light.

‘Do you feel like getting sick?’ he got a muffled no but she still looked a bit peaky, ‘You’re probably still concussed, I was so worried about the hypothermia I forgot about the head trauma’ he berated himself for his blunder.

‘You got a wallop to the head too’ she pointed out.

‘Yes, but as I’m sure you know, I’m incredibly thick-skulled’ he smiled as she chuckled, the colour coming back a little to her face now she was lying down.

‘I'm sorry for everything Nick’ her lashes were wet.

‘Sleep Bishop, no more apologies. You’ve done nothing wrong’.

After tucking her in as comfortably as he could, he took a seat in one of the leather armchairs beside the fire. Staring into the flames for long hours with only the howling wind and the spitting fire for company, his mind churned over everything that had been said and not said. He was sure of one thing.

_Jake is a fucking dead man._

Although she had asked him not in interfere there was just _no way_ he could let it stand. He didn’t know everything, she had hinted there was more to it, but the fact remained; her husband, someone she should trust, had harmed her, hurt her.

_Nope, can’t let that go._

He thought back to how anxious he was about her in the trunk and last night, when he thought he might lose her. He had never felt so protective over anyone.

Even when she had gotten a little _frisky_ in her delirious dreams once she eventually warmed up, he would not, _could not_ think of taking advantage of her. She had muttered his name again and again her lips vibrating against his chest, as she unconsciously tormented him with her hip movements. Reluctant to wake her he had simply rolled her up safely in a blanket and huddled up against her back continuing to share his warmth in case her temperature dropped again. The layers of fabric mercifully separated them, reminding him that no matter how much he wanted to follow through on her obvious dreamy desires he wanted _all_ of Ellie. Awake, alert and oriented.

He wanted Ellie to want him back. Not just sex…but _more_ , hell the whole shebang, all in.

He knew she felt something for him, maybe not as much as he felt for her but _something_.

He was at a loss as to why she had such loyalty to an obviously failed marriage. Ellie Bishop was funny and smart, beautiful and kind… everything any sane guy would want. She’d be snapped up- by him if she’d have him, if he were that lucky!

_Why stay with a loser dickhead like Jake?_

Checking on her, she was fast asleep again. He wasn’t sure if he should be worried by that, what could he do anyway? He wasn’t a doctor. They were stuck here in the relative safety of this cabin, god knows where, with no means of communication, in the midst of the worst winter storm for a generation according to the weather channel meteorologist a couple of days ago. He got her another glass of water in case she woke up, he needed to keep her hydrated at least. Her pulse was regular and steady, she wasn’t feverish either.

Pulling on his now dry but dirty jeans and lacing on his boots he decided to start searching the place for anything useful before it got dark again. The wind had died down though the snow was still falling. He’d have to bring in some more firewood. In a closet at the backdoor he found an all-weather coat, sized 3XL but perfect for heading outside. Dragging the door open his feet were inundated by an infalling of at least two foot of soft powdery snow that had piled up against the door frame, and that was on a sheltered porch.

Bracing himself he stepped out and negotiated his way through the several feet deep snow towards an open-fronted log shed across the yard, already fully stocked with split timbers. It took several trips, but he eventually had a decent stack of firewood neatly packed beside the backdoor. He brought the axe back with him too, not much of a weapon but better than nothing. He found a large propane tank alongside the cabin and puffed a relieved sigh to read the dial at three quarters full. Apart from the latrine there was also a gardening shed full of terracotta pots, tools and a lawnmower. He brought a snowshovel back to the porch and cleared the steps and decking.

Feeling the chill creeping in as the sky turned to a purple grey he headed back indoors. Time to get inventive with the dry food goods they had. He knew they would have to start rationing what was available but a bowl of pasta over two days was hardly going wild.

Back in the kitchen he had decided on a rice and lentil concoction, snagging himself a chicken stock-cube from a ceramic jar beside the cooker. Waiting as the mixture simmered away, he looked over to Bishop, now frowning in her sleep.

He was still furious that he had been so blind to what had been going on, even McGee called him ‘jerk Jake’. So, everyone must have known about his earlier affair when Ellie fled home. No wonder she didn’t tell him she was married when he first started on the team, her relationship around that time was probably best described as ‘it’s complicated’.

He was seething mad; he really wanted to hit something in lieu of thumping the head off the asshole who had caused her such pain. He considered maybe he’d chop some wood, work out his aggression on an offending lump of timber.

He was staring at the floorboards mulling over his belligerent thoughts when he saw it.

A rope pull handle on the floor.

Putting down his wooden spoon, he traced the outline of a large rectangular groove separating the floorboards. Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled up the handle which gave way as a hatch, easily springing upright and revealing a narrow but steep stepladder down into a basement. He turned off the gas under the pot, grabbed a candle and went to investigate.

Twenty minutes later he shook Ellie awake.

‘Bishop, I found something that’ll make you happy’ he handed her some woolly socks and helped her up.

‘What is it Nick? You look like the cat that got the cream’ she quizzed him, even though he remained delightedly tight lipped.

‘Ok close your eyes and just trust me, I won’t let you fall ok?

‘Okay’ she added several vowels to the word but she let him lead her blindly to the newly exposed stairwell. Holding her tightly by the waist he helped her down until they were standing on the cool but by no means freezing flooring, deep underneath the cabin.

‘And 3, 2, 1…open your eyes’ he spoke into her ear from beside her, anticipating her reaction.

Ellie blinked in the suddenly bright room as he pulled the string on the battery-operated light fitting.

‘Oh my god! Nick I could kiss you!!’ she squealed in excitement, her cheeks instantly rednening with acute embarrassment, but he just brushed off her outburst.

It was an amazing find.

Every wall of the small room was covered with floor to ceiling shelving, all stocked full of store-brand tinned and packaged foods, everything from chicken soup to Cheerios, along with rows of glass jars of homemade preserved vegetables, pickles and jams. There was a plastic box marked ‘medicines’, another marked ‘batteries and lights’, toilet paper, dog food, brand-new clothing, boots, baskets of winter vegetables and crates of wine, whiskey, beer and even soda.

‘Who _are_ these people?’ she whispered in an awe-struck voice, running her hand along the shelving, no doubt cataloguing an inventory of items in her head.

‘I don’t know but I love them, there must be a year’s worth of supplies here!’

‘You know, there was a _SHTF_ magazine in the bathroom, I should have guessed they’d have a root cellar or something’

‘SHTF? You mean like...?

‘Yep, literally ‘Shit Hit The Fan’, it’s a term preppers use; if disaster strikes, war, a pandemic, zombie apocalypse, whatever, they have a prepared place to hunker down with immediate family. In fairness though, our tornado shelter at home looks a bit like this. Mom goes a bit nuts with couponing at times’ she rolled her eyes and laughed a genuine hearty laugh.

‘Oh, and I haven’t shown you the best bit’ even he could hear the childlike glee in his own voice now.

‘There’s something better than these chocolate chip cookies?’ she was clutching the bag to her chest with a dreamy expression on her face.

‘Oh yes, tah-dah!’ he flourished his hands at the gun-locker conveniently supplied with a key from a hook high up on the wall. Now they had a shotgun, a rifle and several boxes of ammunition, and he could breath a sigh of relief that they could at least defend themselves.

‘So, would you like red or white wine with your dinner tonight, madam?’ he asked with a mischievous smirk.

In the end they settled on a combination of beef chilli and mixed vegetable rice as it was quick and they were both hungry. Ellie decided to forego the wine, her head obviously hurt more than she was letting on, but she happily glugged back some Tylenol with a hot chocolate while chomping on her probably twentieth cookie.

‘You know I think some of my head spinnies is just because my sugar levels had crashed’ she purred nibbling on what was definitely this time her _last_ , last one.

‘You really haven’t eaten much over the past few days, B’ he agreed looking over at the thin face, thinking it was probably longer than that.

They were either side of the glowing fireplace now, both relaxing on armchairs, the small radio they had found playing some oldies in the background. They had hoped to find a mobile phone in with the stockpiled emergency items but no, just the battery-operated radio. Listening for any local channels that might give a clue to _where_ they were was a pointless so they just settled on a station playing middle of the road greatest hits. The weather reports were still awful, at least a couple of foot more of snow expected over the next days, more in the mountains, with strong winds and sub-zero temperatures. From what Nick could see during the slog to the cabin, they were definitely in the foothills and there was already about a metre deep of snow outside.

They were going nowhere, and any rescue seemed improbable and unlikely. But they had everything they needed, and they were together.

He was thankful.

They had changed into some of the new clothing they found; Ellie into a very figure-hugging thermal underlayer leggings and long-sleeved top set and he into a crazy combination of ladies’ grey sweatpants and a black Disney hoodie. All the clothes in the cellar were either women’s regular or men’s like massive, super-sized. He’d seen Ellie’s mouth twitch with supressed mirth when he pulled on the hoodie, the print read ‘Nanna Mouse’ and yes, it had the Minnie ears and red bow on it but he was man enough to rock it, sure he was! He had sworn her to silence, and she had loyally agreed but he knew her fingers itched for her phone to photograph the moment.

He was sipping on his second glass of wine when Ellie broke into another jaw-shattering yawn.

‘Go to bed Ellie, you’re fighting a losing battle with those yawns’

‘Yeah I think I will’ she pulled back the throw she had over her lap and went to freshen up, still delighted they had found packs of toothbrushes and paste. He stole a glance as she sat on the side of the bed shaking out and re-braided her long locks of gilded flaxen hair.

‘You coming or staying up for another while?’. He hadn’t expected that.

‘I um, thought I’d stretch out here…’ She didn’t need him to warm her now so he’d thought he might pull the two chairs together, put his feet up, keep the fire lit.

‘Huh?’ she gave him a puzzled look.

‘B, I’m fine here’ he reassured her, ‘I'm sure you’d be more comfortable with your own space…’.

‘Nick, don’t be ridiculous, we can share! How could I possibly even sleep knowing you’re uncomfortable on a chair. Come to bed, please’.

‘Ok, if you're sure -,’

‘I trust you Nick’ she tutted good-naturedly ‘ and I wouldn’t have said if I wasn’t ok with it’ she added sincerely.

He told her he would just be a few minutes. As he finished his wine, replenished the fire, and double checked the doors were both secured, he thought over her reply.

She wouldn’t let him into her bed if she wasn’t ok with it.

But Jake got in, did stuff to her… whether she was ok with it or not.

He shook his head to clear out the stomach-turning thoughts lurking there now.

She was ok with Nick in her bed. Because she _trusted_ him. Because she wasn’t _afraid_ of him.

_Jake was a fucking dead man!_


	8. Morale and memories

Ellie blinked awake in the dim early morning to the view of a peacefully sleeping Nick, his face only inches from her own. She watched mesmerised as his closed eyes danced in his relaxed dreaming state; he looked so innocent, childlike almost, his head squished into the pillow, his cheek resting in his palm. His lips were slightly pouted, and his skin finally looked refreshed, the exhausted shadows of fatigue now erased. Her fingers itched to touch his face, to trace her fingertips along the soft contours of his brow, cheekbone, jaw…lips.

The man before her had already done so much to save her, protect her. She owed him her life, though she knew Nick would never see it like that.

She slipped out of the bed silently so as not to wake him, pulled on the Yosemite hoodie they had found over her thermals, and padded out to the kitchen. The least she could do was organise a nice breakfast for him. Half an hour later she gently shook him awake with a steaming mug of coffee fixed just how he liked it.

‘I, um went a little crazy with breakfast, I hope you're hungry’ she chirped as he sat up and rubbed his hands over his increasingly bearded face. She really tried to keep her eyes north and central but against her wishes they dipped south, down over the broad expanse of his bare muscular chest and lower to the taut flesh over his ripped abdominals.

 _God he’s utterly gorgeous!_ She couldn’t stop the blush climbing up her neck and flaming her cheeks _._

‘Ellie, wow!’ his eyes wide in appreciation as she popped a tray onto his lap set with a ham, cheese and mushroom omelette, a stack of pancakes with maple syrup drizzled over the top and an orange juice. ‘You didn’t have to do all this!’

‘Everything was either freeze-dried or out of a tin, but I think it tastes ok’ she murmured modestly as he was already tucking in with gusto.

‘Ellie, it’s amazing. Thank you’ he smiled at her sincerely and she felt a glow of something warm in her chest that only increased when he added, ‘No one has ever cooked me a breakfast in bed before’ in a shy tone.

‘Well now that I know you like it, I’ll definitely to do it again’ she replied simply.

His eyes flicked up to hers and his fork froze midway to his mouth as he took in what she had just said. She wasn’t ready for early morning analysis of her current thoughts and her face probably couldn’t get any rosier than it already was. She was only glad she could do something nice for Nick after everything he had done for her.

‘Aren’t you going to join me?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow,

‘Well, I kinda tested out my cooking earlier, by the fourth pancake I reckon I’d definitely perfected them, you got numbers five, six and seven. I’ve put all the leftovers in Ziplock bags and put them in a bucket of snow just inside the backdoor, an impromptu fridge for off-grid living!’ she grabbed another coffee and joined him sitting up crisscrossed on the bed all the same, where they chatted in companionable comfort about the plan for the day ahead.

The weather had different ideas.

The gentle fluttering of snowfall was by mid-morning another howling blizzard, bad enough that they had to lay a rolled blanket along the bottom of the front door as a makeshift draft excluder. With no hope of doing anything outdoors, they just enjoyed a lazy day together. Not wanting to waste the rehydrated eggs and milk she had used for breakfast, Ellie decided to return to a previous long-abandoned passion for baking and by the afternoon had a dozen blueberry muffins and, as there was even sachets of yeast, a decent loaf of crusty bread. Nick spent the afternoon poring over the maps they had found, none marking _their_ location unfortunately, and thoroughly cleaning and checking over the guns.

As she leaned over his shoulder to pop a fresh coffee and a muffin down beside him, she was struck by the domesticity of the scene.

‘Well aren’t we the happy homesteaders!’ she laughed wryly, taking in her frilly, floral apron and his deft fingers loading up the rifle magazine. He chuckled in agreement.

‘Oh my god, B this is _so_ good’ he closed his eyes in bliss with the first bite. ‘I’m going to roll out of here if you keep feeding me! I never knew you liked to cook or that you were so good at it, mmm!’. He shoved more of the bun into his mouth and hummed to himself happily.

‘Not much point cooking for one, take-out just got too convenient I suppose, working late nights and all. I used to bake back home all the time, but then I was helping to feed three constantly hungry older brothers and my dad all starving after working on the farm’.

‘Well I’ll return the favour and cook dinner for you tonight, deal?’

‘Deal!’

As evening wore on Ellie rolled up on an armchair with a ragged, old copy of Jane Eyre she had found and read for a while but gradually her eyes sought out and found Nick puttering about in the kitchen, singing along quietly to songs on the radio while he cooked. It felt like a lifetime ago since she had felt so truly relaxed and contented. She knew of course, they were in an unrealistic bubble here trapped in a pretty cabin in snowy isolation, but she was willing to admit it was the person with her that made her happy.

Nick had created a fabulous porcini mushroom and ham risotto with roasted herby potatoes on the side and as they sat together at the small kitchen table, the room lit by candles and the radio churning out smooth tunes in the background anyone could have mistaken it for a date-night. They chatted until late, lingering over their glasses of wine and it was a lovely end to a lovely day.

And if they did unconsciously end up rolled together in the bed that night, well that was purely coincidental.

She awoke the next morning as the heavy warm arm that had encircled her waist was cautiously lifted off her and the chest that had shielded her back stealthily moved away. She missed the intimacy of their connection immediately, but she kept her eyes closed not wanting him to feel awkward that they had been comfortably curled up around each other most of the night.

The wind and snow had stopped altogether now and over breakfast they listened to the various radio channels hoping for news of a search for two missing NCIS agents but there was nothing, just a never-ending list of huge snow-drifts, road closures and collisions, power-outages and travel disruptions. Ominously they forecast another wave of snowstorm conditions on the way.

Pulling on outdoor gear garnered from the basement, they planned to do a full checkover of the cabin, shovel off snow, clear vents and actually split wood to replenish their stockpile. As usual between them, the chopping became competitive, both racing to finish the larger pile, until she noticed him rubbing his shoulder where he had been jabbed with the knife again.

‘Nick you should let me take a look at that, if it’s bothering you’

‘And let you win the Chopathon? No way Bishop!’

‘Ok then I concede’ she shrugged not wanting him to hurt himself further.

He put his axe down ready to argue back and he disappeared as he was covered by a massive avalanche of snow that chose that exact moment to slip off the woodshed roof.

As he dug himself out, spluttering Spanish curses and complaints, Ellie laughed til her sides ached. His comically grouchy face was even more hilarious to her and gales of her laughter echoed around the yard.

‘Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?’ Unable to speak for giggling she just nodded.

She didn’t expect the snowball her right in the face.

‘Oh god Ellie I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…I was aiming for -,’

_Duff!_

She landed one dead centre of his forehead. Growing up with three brothers you had to be quick and on target.

Pretty soon it was all out war, both shrieking and squealing as the powdery snow was thrown, dunked and poured into each other’s faces, mouths and collars. Dodging his next assault with his arsenal of prepared snowballs, she made a dash for the tree line only for the ground to give way beneath her feet as she landed waist-deep in a boundary ditch. Nick was there in a flash, his face dark with concern.

‘ _Ellie_! Jesus, are you ok?’

‘I'm fine I’m fine, nothing broken but my ass!’ she groaned rubbing her butt that had landed on a boulder.

‘Here, let me help you up’

Squatting down he hauled her up by threading his arms under hers, while she linked her own around his neck. Succeeding in getting her out of the metre-deep hole, he lost his balance and they both fell back into the deep snow, Ellie landing with a thump against Nick’s chest.

They were face to face, their reddened noses almost touching, and her eyes were held spellbound by the swirls of mahogany brown rapidly darkening to a smouldering smoke in his. Nick’s eyes flicked down watching her as she bit her lip nervously. She held her breath as his hands slipped down her back.

The smirk gave him away.

She felt the air hit the small of her back as he lifted her jacket but before he could land the palmful of snow there, she leaned in so that their lips were just millimetres away, his breath warming her face, their eyes locked. She sensed his hand stall.

A low, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, and as she was lying on top of him their bodies flush against each other, she felt her own chest vibrate with his feral sound. She almost chucked in the towel on her diversion, her breath hitching as her body instinctively responded to that seductive, gravelly hum.

But this was war!

With a whoop of victory, she lashed her scooped double armfuls of freezing snow onto both his cheeks, filling even his ears and rolled off him just as he howled in defeat.

‘Not fair Bishop, you distracted me!’ he was still trying to shake out the white powdery flakes from his hair.

‘Shh! Can you hear that?’ she asked as she abruptly stopped her chortling.

‘I’m not falling for _that_ either’ he declared emphatically.

‘Listen, can you hear it? Off over behind that fallen tree’ she pointed with a smile on her face as she spotted them. The two male birds were squabbling for supremacy while the hens ignored them and continued their foraging.

She crawled over to the steps of the decking and took up the shotgun he had left there ‘just in case’.

Taking aim, she cleanly shot the large turkey with the damaged wing.

‘Nice shot B!’ Nick gave her a congratulatory slap on the shoulder as she got up to retrieve her prize. ‘You're a formidable woman Ellie Bishop’ he looked on in awe as she picked up the bird by its ankles and examined it.

‘You can take the girl out of the country Nick!’ She smiled. ‘He wouldn’t have survived anyways, his wing was broke, see?’

They started to walk back to the cabin, Ellie already thinking about how she was going to dress the carcass for the meat.

‘So, turkey for dinner huh? Didn’t you like eat your own body weight of that at home over Christmas?’ Nick asked jovially as he shouldered the gun.

‘Um, I didn’t get to go home’ she muttered and saw his head do a double-take in disbelief.

‘But you were bouncing with excitement to go, what happened?’ he stopped her with a hand on her arm and turned her a little to face him. His eyes sought hers as her own sought refuge in the snow at her feet.

‘Jake um, wanted to do the holiday in DC but then he got called overseas to work late on Christmas Eve, I’d missed my flight so I didn’t make it home’ she bit back the disappointment that still burned her throat that she had lost that time with her family.

‘You mean you spent Christmas _alone_?’ his tone exposed his stunned indignation at her admission.

‘Um yeah, maybe next year?’ she answered evasively, trying to take the sting out of her regret. ‘What about you, did you overdose on turkey too? Where did you spend the day?’

‘Erm, at home by myself, same as ever. We don’t exactly _do_ ‘family’ Christmases. My only tradition is church. Years ago, my Abuela Rosaria made me promise to go to Mass every Christmas Day and Easter Sunday, so I do that’

‘She was important to you, huh?’ he had never mentioned his grandmother before but knowing even this little about their relationship eased her own burden just a little.

‘Yes, she was one sweet, stubborn nanna, she swore she would come back to haunt me if I ducked it and I still believe her!’ he blessed himself unconsciously and smiled. ‘So, we were both on our own for the holiday, less than a mile away from one another the whole time’ he continued delicately giving her a remorseful look.

‘Yeah, I guess’ she sighed downheartedly; if they’d been talking to each other at the time they could have just called, spent the day goofing about watching a movie maybe but Jake’s appearance had ruined that too.

‘Well, why don’t we do Christmas again, _today_ , like properly. We have a turkey that needs eating so let’s go crazy and have the whole traditional festive meal, together. Oh, I even spotted some old decorations in the loft space’ he suggested enthusiastically. ‘Come on, I know you _love_ Christmas. What do you say, _Elfie_?’ he nudged her, smirking with childlike glee at using that silly nickname again.

‘I think it sounds… amazing!’ she couldn’t curb the smile that fixed itself on her face and something deep inside glowed at the thoughtfulness of his proposal.

‘Well, then that’s what we’ll do’ he confirmed simply. ‘Now I take it you know what to do with that feathery mess to make it edible, my meat usually comes in supermarket packaging!’

Twenty minutes and a sharp knife later Ellie had stripped the best cuts off the bird, sectioned off the tougher bits for stewing and had the waste ready for the local scavenger wildlife in a bucket.

‘Hey Nick, I’m going inside to wash up’ she called over to where he was still sorting through the woodshed. Nick was happy to dispose of the carcass deeper into the woods.

Stripping herself of her wet clothes, she washed down at the sink using a flannel and soap from the stores. Standing there in just her fresh underwear and an oversized tee-shirt, she took the opportunity of having a couple of pots of simmering water on the go to wash her hair, already wet from the playfulness of their snow fight. Leaning over the sink was kind of awkward especially as she had such long hair, but it was so worth it to finally wash out the flakes of dried blood and grime off her scalp. She was struggling to rinse the shampoo out when Nick tapped politely at the backdoor.

‘Hey, you decent or shall I wait a while?’

‘Decent, and in need of a favour’

‘Shoot’ he answered stepping in and closing the door swiftly to keep the draft off her. Turning her head in the sink she could see he swallowed and looked away uncomfortably as he shrugged off his coat.

She was barely half-dressed.

Clearing her throat, she tried to keep her voice light and level. ‘Could you maybe fill the pitcher with fresh hot water, and help me rinse out, I’m trying to keep my wrist bandages dry’

‘Sure, I can do that’

She kept the head down in the sink, burning with embarrassment that she hadn’t really thought this through. He was standing next to her, hip to hip, and she had to close her eyes.

‘Um, let me know if it’s too hot’. She could already feel the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes with his closeness. Too late, molten lava bubbled down deep in her core. Boiling water would be nothing to that!

‘It’s perfect, thank -,’ she answered and sucked a breath in as she felt his chilled fingers massage out the suds from the nape of her neck.

‘Sorry, I should have warmed my hands’ he snatched his fingers away.

‘No, don’t stop…’

‘Ok’ he mumbled quietly, and he resumed his circular motions, threading his fingers through her tresses, teasing her sore neck muscles with gentle but firm strokes of his thumb.

Her chest ached as she tried to control her breathing, unconsciously her hip leaned into him more as her body relaxed in contentment. She wasn’t even sure how long they stayed like that but when her bare legs shivered with the chill, Nick broke off, poured the last of the pitcher over her head and placed her towel beside her but stayed where he was.

Quickly wringing out her hair, she twisted the towel around and straightened up, but the sudden movement made her dizzy and the room spun. Nick caught her elbows and steadied her body against his own.

‘You ok?’ he asked, his concerned eyes roaming over her face; if she hadn’t felt faint before she did now.

‘Fine’ she blurted, all flustered, ‘just a woozy moment, all ok now’ she reassured him giving his forearms she had clasped onto a squeeze.

‘You're pale again’, he lightly touched her cheek with his fingertips and the spot burned. ‘Maybe you should lie down?’

‘What, with a Christmas dinner to prepare, no way!’ she laughed.

‘We’re doing it _together_ , remember? Please, humour me, rest for an hour while I get the stuff we’ll need, then we can both get stuck in with festive fun’. His plan sounded so reasonable she agreed, drying off and combing through her fresh hair quickly before climbing into the bed with her book.

Ellie fell fast asleep even though she had protested she wasn’t tired at all, her concussion plagued her with headaches despite the painkillers, though she didn’t want to burden Nick with that. When she blinked awake it took a moment for her to register what she was looking at.

‘Tah-dah!’ Nick announced with a boyish smile, standing back so she could take in the dark green branches of a medium-sized spruce in the corner of the room.

‘A Christmas tree! Nick you are…’ she shook her head in disbelief at the effort he had gone to, ‘amazing’ she finished with a gulp.

‘I found the tinsel and baubles in the loft, plus there was a couple of strings of battery fairy lights! How about we put the food on to cook and then dress the tree? I’ll even let you put the star on top’ he winked at her like it was a huge concession.

So, they spent the next while peeling and chopping the gnarly last-season potatoes, carrots and parsnips while the turkey fillets roasted slowly in the oven, sipping on a glass of wine and humming along to the radio or chatting contently.

Putting the finishing touches on the tree later, Ellie stood back to admire their work.

‘Not bad Torres!’ she beamed at him as he tidied away the storage box.

‘Yeah, you could probably dress me in red and sit me on the mantle, with this beard I’m like a young St Nick!’ he scratched at it again. ‘God, it’s so itchy!’ he complained, for like the third time.

‘Shave it off then’

‘I couldn’t find a razor, just a cut-throat, straight blade and that’s not exactly a ‘trial and error’ skill’

‘I’ll do it if you want’ she offered with a shrug.

‘You can use a cut-throat?’ his eyebrows raised in surprise.

‘Sure. Come on, sit’ she pulled out a kitchen chair and beckoned him over. ‘You trust me, don’t you?’

‘With my life, B’

‘Well then, sit’.

She went to the kitchen first and soaked a towel in hot water and whilst it was still steaming wrapped it around his face. She gathered up the items she needed and returned to a slightly nervous-looking Nick eyeing her as she honed the razor on the leather strap.

‘So where did you learn to shave with a blade?’

She carefully applied the soapy lather with the brush all over his face and below his jaw, steadying herself as she knew now was the time to explain.

‘My grandfather, back when I was a teen. No talking now, I kind of like your nose the way it sits on your face’ she smiled playfully. He gave a hum of an ok and she started. Standing behind him she dexterously scraped the blade over his bristled cheek whilst stretching his skin with her other fingers. ‘Pops had Parkinson’s Disease, as it got worse, he needed more help. He never liked modern razors, insisted a cut-throat was better for your skin, so he taught me. There were a few accidents, but the bleeding stopped after a while…joking, a little!’ Nick stayed still and just blinked.

‘Then I used to shave my dad too when he got sick a couple of years ago. Gibbs was great, let me take whatever leave I wanted, and I was only new to the team then, so it was really good of him. Dad had prostate cancer, metastases in his bones, in a lot of pain most days’ she concentrated on Nick’s cheek, carefully dragging the blade, pushing down the sadness that always welled up when she thought of her dad, the big man of her childhood who had withered away to an emaciated skeleton before her eyes.

‘I was such a daddy’s girl growing up, I um, didn’t have many friends, being a bit odd with my maths geek vibe. Anyhow that’s how I shoot turkeys and gut them like a pro, and how I can birth a stuck calf and plough a field straighter than any of my brothers.’ she chuckled lightly, the competition was still strong between her siblings.

She stood behind him now, tilting the crown of his head back to rest nestled in between her breasts as she started on his neck. ‘We’d talk a lot in those last days. About how he and my mom had fallen in love in high school and how everyone thought they were crazy getting married so young. Thirty-nine years they were together. She’s still heartbroken he’s gone’ she cleaned the blade on the towel and continued to the hard part.

‘I didn’t know they had struggled so much in the early days, even when us kids were young, how close they came to walking away. They argued, grew apart, he even moved out for a while, though I don’t remember that. He told me he came back because he had made a promise to my mom to never quit. ‘Marriage is more than a pretty wedding day’’ she quoted wryly.

‘Dad insisted it’s hard work, sacrifice, give and take, that it’s something to be cherished _because_ you work at it regardless of life’s hurdles. He knew Jake and I were on different pages since I changed jobs to NCIS, if not a while before that even. My new life was all exciting drama, shootouts and dangers rather than a safe, nine to five number-crunching desk job, and I loved it, I still do. Jake maybe resented that, anyway it was straining our relationship that already had…issues’.

True but a wild understatement she thought.

Nick’s eyes bored into hers as she asked him to push out his bottom lip and chin with his tongue.

‘Dad always wanted to see me happy, settled, with my own family maybe one day. He was so happy he had gotten to walk me down the aisle before he died. He asked me, _both_ of us as Jake was there at the end, to _promise_ to never give up, keep talking and try harder, and work through whatever bumps we met in the road. I made that promise to my dad and he died a couple of days later.’

Standing in front of Nick now, her legs between his, she silently finished the last tricky contours and folds around his nose then put down the razor and carefully wiped off the remaining foam flecks from Nick’s motionless face. Without noticing until he was there, she felt his hand find hers and give it a squeeze. His cleanly shaved throat bobbed with a swallow as she heaved a relieved breath and smiled at him.

‘And, I’m done’.


	9. Improvise, adapt overcome

Nick was too stunned to move, to even breathe.

He felt sick.

So that’s what the asshole had over her; a promise she made to her dying dad, a man she clearly adored, guilt-tripping her to keep on trying to make their marriage work, no matter what.

Nick knew instinctively that her dad would _never_ have thought his words would have such profound consequences for his daughter. It wouldn’t have crossed a decent man’s mind that his son-in-law would use the power of that promise over his little girl, to manipulate her into accepting his behaviour- the _first_ affair for starters- and going by the timeline he worked out, he cheated on her only a couple of months after her dad passed away. She would still have been grieving his loss, emotionally vulnerable to Jake’s exploitation of her promise made in good faith to the father she had buried only weeks before.

And he couldn’t even begin to imagine what Jake had said so that she tolerated the rest.

_He’s a fucking dead man!_

She had chosen her opportunity to share her story wisely. With the blade to his throat, he couldn’t react as she knew he would, he couldn’t quiz her reasoning or debate the logic of her beliefs. He couldn’t stomp about, or bristle in temper, punch a wall or bulge his sinews in anger.

He could only listen and accept this was _her_ truth.

He also knew in his heart she had never told anyone else what she had just told him.

He was privileged to be given the information but now was burdened with the weight of the knowledge.

_Where did they go from here?_

He had felt the ground shifting between them, today more so than even their contented domesticity yesterday. He had woken up curled around her, her body snug in his arms, and he knew that was how he wanted to wake up every day, for the rest of his life. His chest had felt tight with the intensity of his longing for her, so much so he had to get up before he tested a boundary that could be the ruination of their rekindled _friendly_ relationship. If they weren’t snowed in, he would have run off his need over a few miles of pavement, or hit the gym, sweating past his desire to hold her, to caress her delicate skin, feel her graceful, supple body against his own.

The emotional torture of his craving was bad enough; physically his body screamed for release. There wasn’t even the opportunity of a hot shower to discreetly ‘blow off steam’. Chopping wood in the freezing yard sounded ideal to cope with the very alert and engorged resident in his pants. Of course Ellie, completely unaware of his strained boxers, challenged him to a Chopathon. Ellie had such a smooth even stroke, she had obviously chopped more wood than he, a city boy from Miami, ever had the need to. He stupidly overdid it, struggling to keep pace with her rate, and his shoulder burned deep in the muscle.

The snowball fight was just impulsive, innocent fun until it wasn’t so innocent anymore. Their bulky coats hid his rigidity but when he pulled her out of the hollow and her body lay on his, something else stood to attention; he couldn’t control the reverberating, instinctive growl that escaped him. A nano-second longer, with her lips just hovering above his own he would have kissed her, to hell with the consequences. But then she dumped snow all over him playfully and the moment was gone.

He just about had himself under control when he walked in and found her long-legged frame head-down in the sink, needing his help.

It was almost game over.

The tee-shirt she was wearing modestly covered what needed covering but it left little to his already wild imagination. He thought at first, she was flinching back because of his touch and chastised himself he had not asked her permission first but then she said it.

‘No, don’t stop…’ was that longing in her voice too? Was he reading too much into things?

A tiny spark flared in the embers of his heart all the same.

His fingers massaged her scalp in rhythmic motions, circling around the base of her skull and then combing down the length of her chamomile blonde locks. She didn’t even realise she was leaning further into him or that she was quietly purring in contentment as his fingers traced patterns on her scalp. He had to roll his eyes heavenward silently pleading for divine assistance to direct his thoughts away from the ideas that popped into his mind at her sounds. It was a new inventive way of being permitted, being invited, to touch her and he lost himself in the moment, feeling the sparkle of their connection bloom in his chest.

This was above and beyond the most sensual thing he had ever done, with anyone.

The tremble of her chilled unclad leg shivering against his own woke him from his trance. He passed her the towel silently, unsure of his ability to formulate coherent words. When she stumbled, he caught her, his fingertips buzzed when they brushed against her pale cheek. The frequency of their casual touches had increased today; he craved them, savoured them yet dreaded the loss when they were gone.

After convincing her to take a nap, he climbed up the handmade ladder to the loft space and retrieved the box of old Christmas tat. Deciding the contents would look fairly sad and pathetic as is, he guessed that Ellie had had enough of half-assed, just get through the day Christmases.

He had too.

Determined to make this day a special day for both of them, he donned his outdoor clothes again and headed out to the woods with an axe. He didn’t realise choosing a tree could be so tricky but eventually, he found the perfect one. Dragging it back to the cabin through the snowy woodland, he saw a snippet in his mind’s eye of both he and Ellie wrapped up against the cold in some future garden centre picking another tree, for their home, whilst trying to tame their over-excited kids…

Two …and Ellie’s puffed out coat showing another on the way…

He could see his unborn children in her eyes and he just knew, on some cosmic level, Ellie Bishop was the love of his life, his soul mate.

Sure, it was a total mess but at least he had found her; the restless search everyone felt to find ‘the one’ was over. And he would do anything for her, wait on the side-lines for as long as it took, in the hopes that one day she might feel the same way about him.

Rooting about in the potting shed he found a rusty old screw-in tree-base, the folks who owned this place must have spent cosy picture-perfect holidays here and he felt a little jealous of these anonymous people. Ellie at least had her big, family, pretty farmhouse festivities. Nick had memories of his deadbeat dad drinking too much, shouting at him pipe down as he played with his new toys, and his mom going out for another cigarette break on the fire escape. 

The tree might have been a little lop-sided, but Ellie was thrilled with it all the same, her sunny smile was enough to chase away all his jaded recollections of his lamentable childhood.

In the kitchen they worked side by side, preparing the vegetables he had brought up from the root cellar and deciding what herbs and marinades they both liked best. He had never tried parsnips roasted in maple syrup and she had never had his nanna’s red wine gravy. Ellie insisted they needed a formal dessert to go with their meal and was furiously whipping up a kind of vanilla custard for her apple crumble.

‘Taste, too sweet?’ she asked, offering him a sample on her finger. Unconsciously he opened his mouth, his lips closing around her warm finger. She watched his face carefully for his opinion of the sauce and he zoned out a little, stunned by the intimacy of the simple gesture. Her tongue licked a little smudge of syrup left on her skin after he took his taste and looked to him for the deciding vote.

‘Perfect’ was all he could mumble out.

Ellie Bishop would be the death of him.

They had decorated the tree together, Ellie even showing him how to make popcorn chains, newspaper snowflakes and origami angels to hang on the tree. These things were all part of her cherished Christmas Eve activities and now they were his too.

Nothing though prepared him for emotions that engulfed him as she put that blade to his throat.

The experience of her shaving him was so intensely intimate, an expression of absolute trust between them. Not only did Nick have unconditional faith that her hand would not slip, but he also knew that the act itself, being gentle, sensual and deeply personal, had crossed a line and landed them in a new place.

He felt flustered, as he was now hyper-aware of her glancing touches as they brushed by each other setting the table with an odd collection of mismatched crockery, as she leaned on his shoulder to tippy-toe putting her handmade kitchen foil star on the tree top and even as his fingers brushed hers when he refilled her wine glass. All his former suave cockiness seemed to have evaporated.

_What the fuck had she done to him?_

They both made an effort to dress up a little for the meal, challenging with what was available in the cabin. He wore his now scrubbed clean and dried jeans and black tee-shirt, and a red check shirt he had found, though he had to leave it open as it was too snug across his muscular chest. Ellie managed to look even more gorgeous in a forest-green shirt that she belted at the waist and rolled up at the sleeves. It reached just lower than mid-thigh and left her legs bare. She reckoned she had toned the whole summery vibe down with red woolly socks on her feet.

Everything about the meal was… perfect, his go-to word of the day it seemed. They talked and laughed, swapped stories and sipped a lot of wine, and her eyes sparkled in the candle-light and he felt more at ease with Ellie than he had with any other person in his whole life.

As they both stood up to clear off the empty plates for the wash-up, the radio that had been playing in the background beat out an old tune that had Ellie bopping along and fist-pumping a ‘yay!’ as they announced a medley of flashback hits from 1999. He laughed at her crazy enthusiasm for the cheesy songs, but she merrily sang along to the cranked-up volume of Britney as he washed and she dried the dishes at the sink.

Maybe it was the wine or maybe her obvious glee when ‘ _Living La Vida Loca’_ blared out but then they were dancing, twisting, turning, holding hands as they moved out to the main space again. They were all grins, he probably looked like an idiot and he didn’t care. Inside he was just happy, and she beamed back at him, her golden blonde hair spinning out and bouncing more with each move and beat.

This was perfect.

As he spun her around mesmerised, her hips swaying to the pop salsa rhythm, she made a giggly confession.

‘I had it _bad_ for Ricky Martin in the day…posters plastered all over my bedroom walls, even got my dad to drive me to Dallas to see him live!’ she blushed in light-hearted embarrassment.

‘I thought you were all maths and schoolwork in your teens?’ he laughed as she sang the chorus even louder.

‘It was schoolwork that started my Ricky obsession, our Spanish teacher taught the class through song lyrics to get us interested and improve our accent. Let’s just say I _really_ paid attention! But it worked for other languages too, they became easy to pick up when I sang along’. It seemed like a simple explanation for her amazing linguistic abilities.

‘Spill, Torres, who did it for you?’ she skewered him with a mischievous grin.

‘Jennifer Lopez’, safe, sexy, cringe-free.

‘Ok she’s gorgeous but teenage you had a _guilty_ pleasure, spill Nick!’ she twisted her pointy finger into his chest, teasing him until he caved.

‘Buffy!’ he blurted, then realising his admission he stifled a groan and hung his head in shame. ‘Aww man!’ he closed his eyes, already regretting giving her that tidbit.

_Fuck, I’ll never live this down!_

He gave her a minute to get her breath back from laughing.

‘ _You_ watched Buffy?’ As she wiped the tears from her eyes in disbelief, he tried to claw back some of his totally non-geeky masculine dignity.

‘ _Nooo!_ of course not, my sister Lucia did…I just happened to be in the room… _a lot’_ , he asserted aloofly. 

She was still laughing hard when the song changed to ‘ _Bailamos_ ’ and they continued dancing, but the atmosphere gradually shifted between them along with the tempo of the classic, sultry tune. It was the combination of little things; their dance moves slowed, her grip tightened on his hips, they gravitated closer until their bodies were fused together, every movement sending tingling static shocks along his hypersensitized nerves. Their playful banter ceased, and they just swayed together eyes locked, his hands burning against her lower back while his pants tightened again.

This was dangerous territory they were stepping into and he could see she sensed the supercharged vibe too by the way she unconsciously chewed on the edge of her bottom lip and how her still bruised throat rippled with repeated swallows.

He was confused then a couple of minutes later by her sudden onset of twitchy unease. She clearly recognised the country-leaning opening riffs as the radio DJ announced the next song ‘ _Amazed_ ’, ‘still voted in the top three most popular wedding songs’ the guy helpfully informed them. Her face blanched, the soft glow that had illuminated her face all evening seeped away from her cheeks.

The song was only vaguely familiar to him but as he caught the lyrics, he grasped her discomfort.

 _Had this been_ her _‘first dance’ wedding song when she married the dickhead?_

_Shit, fuck, shit!_

But he couldn't ask her without adding to her distress and she had hidden her face now, her chin tucked down onto her chest and her hair a veil between them so he had no idea what she was feeling.

He had to know.

He reached over and lowered down the volume on the radio to just above a hum.

Ellie lifted her surprised face to him and he saw tears in her reddened eyes. Spots of crimson highlighted her cheekbones. She was upset and he desperately wanted to make it better, to try to fix her broken pieces back together. He sucked in his breath and pulled her closer, feeling just so helpless inside.

‘Ellie?’

‘I’m alright’ she whispered but he saw through her white lie. Her head fell onto him and she seemed to snuggle her cheek into his chest. He rolled his eyes skyward and tried to control his ragged breath.

How many times had he imagined her, them, starting something _more_ from something just like this? But he was her friend, and she needed a friend more than a lovesick Romeo.

He felt her frame shudder with a suppressed hiccup of a sob.

His resolve crumbled and against his better judgement, he closed his eyes and softly kissed the top of the head.

‘Talk to me Ellie, please, maybe I can help?’ he smoothed her hair, hoping his touch would give her some comfort.

‘You’ve done so much Nick’ she muttered into his tee-shirt, but he heard every word. ‘I had the perfect Christmas day and now I’m just being greedy because I just wish we could stay in this perfect bubble’.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat as she voiced his own secret wish.

She chuckled then and raised her wet eyes to his. ‘You know when we were in the woods before you found this place, I imagined we were stuck in a toy snow-globe. I kinda wish it was real now, that we were separated from all the complicated, messy stuff by a protective dome. Just us, here, together’ she sniffed wistfully, wiping the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand.

‘I know you’re upset, I just want to help, if I can’

‘Nick, telling you what I did today, _helped_. I’ve so much going on in my head, overthinking stuff, ignoring other stuff for too long, I’ve just… lost _me_ , forgotten who _I_ am’. She shook her head dismissively and hid her face again against his chest. He felt the damp of her tears soaking through to his skin.

Her pain broke his heart to pieces.

‘Ellie, look at me’ he gently pulled her chin up with his forefinger, ‘don’t hide from me’. When her weary eyes met his he chose his next words carefully. ‘You are _perfect_ ; smart and beautiful, sweet and kind, resilient and strong’ his voice got cracked as he tried to keep his emotions in check; he was her friend, he needed to be supportive, nothing more. ‘You will get through this, things will get better and I’ll be beside you every step of the way, whatever you need I’m here for you, always’.

He hoped she would need a divorce lawyer.

_I’ll find her the best and still punch fuck out of Jake!_

Her mouth opened and snapped shut again as she went to say something but changed her mind, giving a negligible shake of her head then looking downcast again, her forehead resting on his chest at just the right height for him to rest his chin on her crown.

‘Whatever it is just ask me, what do you need?’ He felt her tense ribcage rise and knew she was fighting with her conflicted thoughts and would eventually just blurt it out, the way she did when she was nervous and needed to say something awkward all in one go.

He felt her hands clench into fists against the waistband of his jeans as she drew herself back, squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the face.

‘Can we just be together, you and me _together_ , just for tonight…?’ she asked hesitantly in a voice barely above a whisper.

He had _not_ expected that.

Her anxious eyes held his as she put all her heart into the request and his own convulsed with irregular beats flipping between stunned shock and overpowering hunger for her.

_She’s just upset, she doesn’t mean…_

‘Can we do that Nick, please?’

The desperation in her voice was palpable.

_Jesus, Ellie you’re killing me!_

She leaned in closer to him, pressing her lower abdomen against his bulging crotch.

‘ _Ellie_ …’ her name rumbled in his chest, a primal warning growl escaped him, cautioning her, even as his raw desire burned like a fireball, searing the walls of his lungs.

He knew he shouldn’t. Things were already complicated; she was just feeling vulnerable…

_Fuck, I want her!_

She swallowed nervously and her hands crumpled up fistfuls of his shirt as she pulled his hips to her some more.

‘I just need _you_ , Nick, please, I know I shouldn’t ev-,’

He cut her off pressing his lips to hers, clutching her tear-streaked face between his hands.

And she kissed him back, with a passion born of pure need for affection and human contact. She wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer, curling her body flush to his and his body reacted instinctively deepening his kiss as she opened her mouth to receive him.

He told the logical parts of his brain to shut the hell up about the stupid recklessness of this plan, even as his heart galloped in wild exuberance that he was finally kissing Ellie, the woman he had been in love with for so long he had almost forgotten what his life was like before she was a part of it.

He tried to slow it down, change the pace of the desperate explorations of their tongues, their nibbling of lips, the racing of his heart as she ran her hands over his buttocks, pulling him and his rigid fullness hard against her pelvis…

His chest heaved in the effort. He had to stay in control in case she changed her mind, hit the brakes, decided this was a mistake…

He pulled back panting and looked at her, trying to assess how certain she was about the road they were on because if he didn’t stop it now, he was lost. Her lips were puffy and tinged with a dark pink hue from their hungry kisses, her hair tousled by his fingers feverishly weaving through her locks to hold her closer.

She was the most beautiful creature in the whole world and every cell in his body wanted her.

‘Don’t stop Nick, please.’ Her small palm cupped his cheek, her thumb brushed over his own swollen lower lip. He felt her other hand on his hip slide around slipping under his tee-shirt trailing her nails around to the small of his back and he exhaled slowly, the last remnants of control fading.

She wanted him, so he kissed her again, losing himself in slower, sensual touches and relishing the taste of her mouth, the soft skin of her throat, her neck. Her freshly washed hair smelled of tangy citrus fruits rather than her usual vanilla and honey, but he wasn’t complaining, this whole thing was a new experience.

He was still unsure, uncertain of the wisdom of their actions. Kissing, ok not _this_ kind of kissing, could maybe be written off, but where they were headed, what she had asked for, could not.

Any semblance of still dancing evaporated when Ellie tugged at his open plaid shirt pushing it back off his shoulders and down his arms until it hit the floor. Biting her lip again, she lifted the hem of his tee-shirt, rucking it up his chest until he had to raise his arms and pull it over his head. His naked chest heaved as her cool fingers traced a delicate pathway from his collar bones, across his pecks, her face alight with concentration and curiosity.

Then she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his sternum.

A gasp exploded past his already erratic breathing. She made her way slowly around him, peppering the skin over his heart, his collarbone, his injured bicep, his shoulder blade with soft kisses as her palms trailed along the sensitive flesh just above his waistband. Clenching his fists against his thighs he battled to stay still while she performed her circuit, but he almost lost it when she stopped behind him and tenderly placed butterfly kisses all the way down his spine from the nape of his neck to the dimple of his lower back.

His breath stuttered and stalled until he could hold it no more and the air whooshed from his lungs at the sizzling sensation of her warm lips on his skin.

His hands reflexively went to his head, tugging hard on his own hair as he mentally tried to control his breathing and tame the lodger in his pants now painfully engorged and in need of urgent release. His movement had exposed his underarm though and her soft lips paid those areas the same attention, forcing him to interlock his fingers and dig his thumbs into his own skull whilst hissing sibilant Spanish appeals to the saints.

She needed this; to be in control, for things to be on her terms.

He would stay still if it killed him.

A cardiac arrest was certain when she returned front and centre, fixed her eyes on his and slowly, effortlessly, she unbuckled that damn belt that she had struggled with for so long in the trunk just a few days ago. Each jean button popped one after another as her dexterous fingers pulled the seams apart. He sucked in his breath as her hands brushed past his rock-hard boy to pull down his jeans. He toed off his boots and stepped out leaving him standing in just his boxers, his erection straining against the stretched fabric.

Ellie’s head cocked to the side as she waited for him to responded in kind. Awash with trepidation, his trembling fingers fumbled at the buttons of her improvised shirt dress while she pulled at the knot to release her belt. The dark green fabric split down the middle revealing a glimpse of a pale bra and panties. His mouth went suddenly dry.

‘Wait!’ she blurted as he stepped forward to unwrap her from her clothes. He froze, terrified she had finally come to her senses, that it wasn’t him she wanted at all, that she had just got caught up in the moment with the wine and the dancing and the-

‘I have to take off the woolly socks first! They’re a bit of a passion killer’ she laughed shyly, bending down to swiftly remove the offending articles.

‘You’ll get cold feet’ he mumbled nervously, aware of the double meaning in his words.

‘No I won’t, not if I’m with you’

He glanced up to her face as she flashed a bashful, happy smile and she took his hand walking him to the bed. He had never felt more nervous in his life, knowing the magnitude of sharing this experience with her. Bombs, mafia mobsters, terrifying skirmishes of his past, all paled into insignificance compared to Ellie Bishop teasing down his boxers, her quiet perusal of what she saw and then her firm hand pushing him back onto the edge of the bed.

Once he was seated, captivated by her new confidence, she let the dress slip off her milky white shoulders until it pooled at her feet. Standing in front of him she took a steadying breath that swelled her breasts and unfastened her bra, dropping it to the floor with exaggerated slowness then hooking her thumbs into her panties wiggling her hips as she slipped them down her legs.

She had just stripteased him, and he nearly lost it right there.

Stepping forward she straddled herself over his lap, a knee either side of his hips, her arms around his neck and finally he could kiss her again. He wanted to be gentle, let her know that lovemaking could be tender, loving and sensual. He ran his fingertips down her arched back, brushed his lips across her breasts, ghosted his tongue over her nipples. A whimper escaped her, and he lifted his head to check she was ok.

‘Nick, I won’t break’ she reassured him softly and smiled shyly as she took his hands in hers placing one firmly on her breast while leading the other down between her legs. Leaning forward so that he definitely understood her commands, she kissed and licked his neck, his earlobe and his lips. He did what he was told, touching her where and how she wanted him to, and she responded with deep moaning kisses that he returned.

He knew what she wanted when she shuffled her thighs closer. He lifted her until she adjusted herself, tilting her hips and when she was ready his eyes never left hers wanting to memorise every second as she slowly sank on to him. His mouth dropped open in a gasp at the feel of her slick heat surrounding him as he entered her, and he growled in satisfaction when he was finally fully sheathed to the hilt within her. Clenching his jaw, he stilled to allow her to accommodate to his size and just basked in the indescribable feeling of them being joined together as one.

There was no going back now.


	10. Keep moving forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting, sadly a death in the family.
> 
> Also please note...saucy scenes lie ahead (scarlet face!)

This was happening, being with Nick was finally happening!

All the times she had imagined his hands on her body, hers on his …nothing had prepared for the reality. A swarm of butterflies appeared to have taken up residence in her stomach, flapping their wings with increasing fervour as the distance between them closed

Never did she think that damn song would be the catalyst to what was happening now. The last time she had heard it they were at Jake’s cousin’s wedding back in the fall. She sat at the table on her own, Jake had gone off an hour or more before to make a ‘work’ call. She watched as the bride and groom danced like nobody was watching them, their passion, desire and love so obvious she had felt herself blush.

For a moment she tried to remember a time herself and Jake ever felt like that about each other; she couldn’t. Their first dance had been a waltz to a sedate classical piece; looking back, theirs had never been a passionate marriage.

Closing her eyes, she imagined dancing to that song with someone she loved, someone she wanted...and she had seen Nick’s face.

_Every time our eyes meet,_

_This feeling inside me,_

_Is almost more than I can take…_

Even thinking of Nick’s mahogany eyes seared through to her heart, for months her body had reacted instinctively to even his briefest of glances, with a glow that spread from her core to her cheeks, no matter how much she tried to damp down the fire.

_The smell of your skin,_

_Taste of your kiss,_

_The way you whisper in the dark…_

She imagined his lips, his hands, his body, loving her all night long…

Then Jake had arrived back at the table, woke her out of her daydream and told her it was past time they went home; he had an early start for work. They didn’t have a dance unlike every other couple at the wedding; dancing was not something Jake ever did.

But now, here she was, dancing to that same song _with Nick_ and tears stung her eyes with the painful ache in her chest of longing, wished for dreams that were not for her. Her life was cold. She tried her best to stop the sobs welling up, but she was just so…lonely.

Today had been the perfect day, a perfect Christmas and spending it with Nick was the best gift of all. This was what other people had and her heart broke with the thoughts of having to leave this cabin, walk away from this perfect fantasy, to return to the bleak life she knew awaited her…

A crazy stupid idea hatched in her head.

He wanted to help. Every word of support and comfort he uttered was like a salve to her ravaged soul.

_Whatever_ she needed, he said.

There was only one thing she needed that he could do to help her feel better, feel anything.

It wasn’t fair to even ask him. He was her friend.

But maybe they could, _just_ for one night, here in this cabin, step outside reality and live in a blissful bubble, in an illusion of togetherness, _they could do that, right?_

No expectations, no guilt, no regrets, just one night.

She’d have to ask, say the words.

A lump clogged her throat as fear gripped her. What if he rejected her? The edges of the fragile bubble rippled.

_It’s now or never, now or never_...Even when she finally blurted it out, it still sounded like a crazy plan.

But she wanted him.

Nick was visibly shocked, his eyes wide, his jaw slack. She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed; it was easier than looking at his eyes which she sensed were roaming over her face. But then his chest vibrated with that rumbling growl so unique to Nick. Was it a warning? Had she crossed a line that would ruin everything they had?

_What the fuck Ellie! Just take it back, this wasn’t fair…_

But then his mouth was on hers, as hungry for her as she was for him.

_This is a dream, right? This can’t be happening!_

His kisses were real. His lips, his tongue, his taste was real.

The only thing that mattered now was that she needed him, and he was there for her. All the hurt, anger and misunderstandings before this moment no longer mattered. He kissed all her burdens away.

She had felt his body reacting to their earlier dancing and she had ruthlessly teased his firm rigidity to persuade him to cave to her request. She knew physically he wanted her, she needed him to know that for her at least, this meant more. She craved affection, to give it and receive it; it had been years since she had initiated intimacy, she wanted to enjoy the limited time she had with Nick.

The deal was one night; she would make the most of it.

A sense of serenity washed over her as she took charge and slowly stripped him of his shirt and tee. She had seen him topless before, at work, in the gym, times when she had felt obliged to divert her eyes and control her features. Of course he was gorgeous; she’d been secretly watching his every move for months. Those flutters hit her hard again; Ellie wanted him so badly her insides ached. Nick’s caramel skin glowed in the firelight; the flickering flames rippled over his toned, defined muscles…

Now she was free to touch, caress, discover _all_ of him.

It felt so _right_ to be here like this with him, more so than she’d ever felt before in her life. Impulsively she placed a kiss on his chest, right above his heart. He let out a shuddering breath and his eyes darkened with desire, but somehow, he seemed to know she needed to control things, it had to be at her own pace and she relished the feeling of liberation and confidence that grew with her discovery of his body.

His reaction to her kisses along his spine thrilled her. She had always admired the sculpted musculature of his back; his knowing smirks at work had told her he had noticed her notice, that unconsciously her eyes regularly appraised his body in those damn fitted shirts of his. She suspected it was the reason he propped himself on her desk so often.

It felt right to show her appreciation now.

She heard him whimper whispered prayers in his native tongue again, something she had learned he only did when he struggled to control his emotions. It had been happening a lot over the past few days. His Spanish usually had a soft, sibilant cadence, now he hissed and groaned the Santa María and saints’ names in a desperate need for distraction.

She was arousing his guttural responses, his stuttering breaths, his gasping entreaties. 

And it was a huge turn on!

Stripping in front of him was the most empowering experience of her life, right up until she firmly placed his hand between her legs. Passive, submissive Ellie was relegated to the past. She was done with ignoring her feelings for Nick, ignoring her own desires.

‘Nick, I won’t break’.

She knew he was afraid he would hurt her; his fingers had trembled on her dress buttons and she could still sense his anxiety, his fear of doing something ‘wrong’. The bruises had sickened him and she understood his reluctance to be too assertive, too rough, but her body craved passion, enthusiasm, fireworks, the kind she knew Nick had in abundance.

He got the message.

Heat spiralled from everywhere he touched. His fingers delved and danced in her delicate folds and hidden depths, lingering, circling, curling and teasing her to the point where she could feel herself tightening, her heart thundered in her ears as she tried to hold on. She could have fallen over the edge with just his touch, but she knew she wanted more, all of him, inside her.

She was still terrified he would change his mind, have second thoughts…

As she sank onto him a deep moan escaped her lips, it was like the sigh of relief that you made when you're finally home. Nick’s eyes never left her face as he filled her, but as she rolled her hips a low growl caught in his throat, spurring her on to relax her abdomen, taking him in even deeper.

There was no going back now.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to him as she eliminated all and any space between them. Her head dropped onto his shoulder, fitting the curve of his neck perfectly, relieved to be finally where she wanted to be.

It took a few moments before Nick, having whispered a hushed ‘Ellie, are you ok?’, and receiving an encouragingly emphatic, ‘fuck yes!’ from her, he hastily pulled her close, grasping her hips as she started to move on him, rocking with her in the rhythm she needed. Her back arched instinctively as he wrapped one arm around her waist, sliding it up her bare back. With the other hand, he firmly threaded his fingers through her long hair, looping it around his fist and tugging softly to tilt her head, exposing the sensitive skin of her neck for him to kiss delicately. Then he found her mouth again, his tongue and lips brushed every surface, teasing and tugging her own tongue…lips… all the while she felt him embedded deep within her. Air got trapped in her lungs and she had to remind herself to breathe.

She completely abandoned herself to those kisses, to the heat of his hands, as his body fused to hers.

She was alive. Nick made her feel alive.

Ellie wasn’t lost anymore. This was exactly where she wanted to be.

The need to move faster became too much and when she lifted her hips, rolling her pelvis to meet him, they found a pace that had her quickly spiralling towards a crescendo. Her breathing halted, she was so close, Nick angled himself just a little bit higher, hitting a certain spot again and again, sending convulsive shivers down her spine. Fireworks cascaded even as she squeezed her eyes shut, grinding her teeth as wave after wave hit her core.

Ellie had barely got her breath back when he placed a hand under each of her thighs and her skin tingled at the warmth of his large palms on her bare skin. When he suddenly rolled her, hoisting her further into the centre of the bed, she giggled at the sudden change in position. His face beamed with a joyful smile even as he affectionately tipped her nose with his own.

He was still buried inside her and bracing himself over her, he traced his fingertips over her lips, her neck and down to her breast until he found her nipple. He brushed it with his thumb until her body jolted with his touch. His lips followed the same trail sending surges of sizzling electricity along her nerve pathways all over again. No inch of skin was left untouched as he kissed his way further and further south. When he pulled out of her, she felt empty, but it was fleeting, the space was immediately filled with his tongue. She gasped and moaned his name, sheets balled in her fists as she discovered just what he could do with that talented, smart mouth of his.

_Holy fucking God!_

A couple of minutes in she knew she wanted to do this again when his scruff grew back. She could feel the tightness building again and so could Nick. He trailed his tongue back up her body as his forearms looped under her knees, widening the space for his hips between her thighs before he drove home. He’d stilled for a few seconds, allowing them both to revel in the sensation of being connected in the most intimate of ways and then he plunged into her again - over and over, slow and passionate intermixed with hard and fast, as he worshipped her body with everything he had. The look of simple adoration in his eyes as they weremelded together again, coupled with the indescribable feeling of him being so deep inside her, was almost too much but she waited for him now.

When he reached his peak, she felt his hips stutter and his body went rigid. They held on even tighter to each other and with her name on his lips he spilled himself inside of her as they exploded together.

They clung to each other afterwards, panting and sated and placing gentle kisses wherever they could reach. She buried her head in the crook of his neck.

She’d been having sex for years but had just realised she had never made love.

Now she had.

She had no idea why the tears started.

‘Ellie’ he whispered, her name sounded beautiful on his lips. Nick’s voice radiated a softness and concern that he only ever directed at her. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I’m ok Nick’, she murmured her own voice a mixture of relief, gratitude and awe. She pulled back slightly so they were face to face but didn’t let go of him. Her voice was warm and tender as she replied. ‘I’m more than okay. These are happy tears – you made me happy Nick.’

He kissed her again slowly and softly, his fingers brushing the tears off her cheeks until they stopped.

‘That was… _fuck_ that was _intense_ ’ Nick trailed off, still not having caught his breath. He slowly rolled off her and pulled her into his arms, tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her gently on her damp forehead.

‘Yeah…it was… perfect’ even those few words were an effort, every cell in her body still hummed with pleasure.

‘I’ve never...um...well, I’ve never _not_ used a condom before’ he swallowed nervously, ‘I’m sorry Ellie, I should have thought about that’

‘I’m on birth control’ she stumbled out, ‘and if it makes you feel any better…it’s _my_ first time without one too’ she added shyly but still feeling heat rising to her cheeks.

‘Wait- _what_? Um, I mean... of course, it’s none of my business’ he stammered out in obvious astonishment. It was the truth though. The couple of fumbling college encounters with random boys had always included protection, and Jake had his ‘icky’ issues since they first dated.

She felt awkward even mentioning _him_ , but she reckoned she should explain. ‘Jake was my first proper boyfriend and _adamant_ about no kids so…’ She felt Nick’s chest freeze as he digested that information. He cleared his throat, ‘and what was _your_ opinion, on kids I mean?’

‘I wasn’t asked’ she replied emotionlessly.

‘I’m sorry Ellie, I shouldn’t bring any of that up, forget I even-,’ he backtracked uncomfortably.

‘If I had a choice, yeah I’d like kids’ she blurted and then because she was still feeling brave, ‘you?’

‘Yes, I want kids’ he answered firmly. ‘I um, didn’t think I did but…that changed, recently-,’ he cleared his throat, ‘I guess I’ve finally grown up, huh?’ His eyes held hers and then flicked to her lips. Her abdomen tightened with desire with just that glance.

God, she wanted him, _needed_ him again!

‘I don’t know, you look _way_ younger and ridiculously innocent without the beard’ she laughed playfully caressing his smooth jawline, trying to disguise her arousal growing in anticipation. He still smelled like the Palmolive soap she had used to shave him.

Yeah, she definitely missed the rasp of his coarse stubble. She knew exactly where she wanted that rough friction now.

‘What, you don’t like the clean shave?’ he had that cocky smirk on his relaxed face again, the one that gave her the collywobbles, it was like he could read all her naughty desires racing through her mind. Heat burned her cheeks at being caught.

‘I didn’t say that exactly… _but_ …’ she bit down on her lower lip, a wicked gleam in her eyes that he noticed.

‘Oh, it’s like _that_ is it Ms Bishop?’ laughing he pulled her closer and buried his silky chin in the crook of her neck, delicately nibbling on her earlobe while he grabbed a palmful of her ass.

_Fuck it, that’s just teasing, two can play that game!_

They were already lying close together, facing one another, so she lifted her upper leg onto his thigh and snuggled in closer still until she could feel him hardening again against her pelvis. She threaded her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. With her other hand she lightly scratched her nails down his torso, eliciting that growl of his again. She let her fingertips linger to doodle just a little south of his navel dipping lower intermittently, exploring and discovering his intimate body parts.

When she felt him jerk against her, she took hold of his smooth shaft and rhythmically moved her grip along his length, manoeuvring her hips so that his tip was coasting just above and along her slick, exposed folds. She kept going, touching, teasing, and twisting even as her own body throbbed with the need for him to plunge into her. She decided to up the ante, abruptly pushing him onto his back and moving her head downwards until she had him fully in her mouth.

He wasn’t expecting that!

‘Fuck, _Ellie_!’ he gasped as she sunk her mouth down on him again. She had _never_ done this with Jake, but she reckoned over the years she had read enough women’s magazines at the hair salon to know _how_ to do it at least. Nick liked it when she used her tongue, and when she sucked, when she took him deep…

‘ _Holy f- …Madre_ de Dios-,’ she smiled as he babbled expletives and looped her tongue mischievously around his shaft again; she could feel the tremble of desire ripple through his abdominal muscles. His fingers twisted in her hair as his hips lifted off the bed his erection surging forward deeper into her mouth.

She was fully prepared to see it through, but Nick had other ideas. His strong arms grabbed her and flipped her over, so she was on her back again but this time he pulled her legs up over his shoulders and his hips thrust forward, ploughing into her with delicious intensity. Neither could stop the loud groans that escaped them as they crested the wave together, Nick’s whole body juddering as he pumped into her once more. He kisses her through her own aftershocks, sweet and slow and gentle.

She knew she had ravaged his back with her nails and she didn’t care, neither did Nick apparently.

They were both exhausted, but they still clung to one another. In the darkness, their cuddles felt like little touches of heaven, warm, cosy, together. She wished she could extend the night just so she could stay close to him for longer, safe in his embrace. His arms wrapped right around her bringing a peace she had never known before, a calming of the storms in her heart, they were the only medicine she would ever need.

Waking the next morning she had to pinch herself to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. Nick was tightly spooned against her back, his arm curled around her body, his hand draped over her breast, his fingertips buried in her armpit and she realised her legs were tangled around his. She knew he was fast asleep. His breathing was deep and even against her neck, his whole body curved around hers, like a protective shield. It didn’t feel in any way oppressive or confining, and her body unconsciously moved to close what gaps there were between them as her hips shuffled back just a little closer to him. His body responded instinctively in reply, drawing up his knees so their legs were flush against each other and neatly making a seat for her behind tight against his crotch. His lips found her shoulder and he nuzzled her skin with gentle kisses

Better than any dream.

The fire had burned down to glowing cinders and the air in the cabin was chilly enough for her to want to bury herself deeper beneath the blankets, deeper against Nick.

But she had to pee.

Wrapping a quilt around her she made a dash for it and was shivering by the time she crawled back into his arms. The result was fairly expected; he warmed her up with another round of sensual caresses and pulsating intensity that had her shaking apart all over again, her toes tingling with electricity rather than the cold.

After, Ellie lay sprawled naked against him, her leg crooked over his thigh, her arm across his chest. He ran his fingertips from her hip to her knee whilst tightening the embrace of his arm, pulling her shoulder closer to his chest and dropping a kiss on her forehead _._ Languorously she stretched, snuggling her cheek against him and kissing the hot skin over his heart.

‘Bishop, we’re not getting up today' he croaked without even opening his eyes. 'Nope, I’ve made an executive decision’ he wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed the top of her head.

‘Huh?’ unsure what he was getting at, but liking the idea.

‘You said _one_ night…so, adhering to the terms you set down, until we get up, we’re still on last night’s ‘tonight’, aren’t we?’

‘Yeah, I guess’, she answered coyly.

‘We could just save time, you know, and extend the deal, how about ‘what happens in the cabin stays in the cabin?’’ He was being light-hearted about it but even the thought of this ending was like a knife in her heart.

Was that what he wanted? Once they got home- whenever that happened, would they go back to being _what_ \- friends, partners, ex-lovers who never spoke about it again?

She didn’t reply, her brain too busy overthinking it all.

‘No pressure!’ he blurted apprehensively, ‘God, sorry you probably don’t want to-,’ his voice cracked a little as he seemed hurt that she hadn’t jumped at the offer straight away, reading into her silence and coming to the totally wrong idea about her feelings.

She felt him pulling away from her and she sought out his eyes immediately.

‘Nick, I want to be with you’ she reassured him, her hands on his cheeks, and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. ‘Until we go home’ she muttered glumly. Reality was bound to burst their bubble.

‘What happens then?’ he whispered dolefully. It was a simple question that had no simple answers.

‘I don’t know’ she shrugged her shoulder, averting her eyes from his penetrating gaze. ‘There's some things I have to work out Nick, I can’t-,’ she couldn’t keep the apprehension from her voice.

‘Shh, there’s no need to explain Ellie’ he soothed away her unease with a kiss. ‘Whatever you need, I’m here for you, ok? That was the deal.’

‘Nick that’s not fair on you-,’

‘Hush, enough. I promised whatever _you_ needed, I’m here for _you_ ’. He closed the topic abruptly with a firm kiss and Ellie left him be. She had been as honest as she could be with him regarding the circumstances. She did not intend to burden him further with her confessions of love and her breaking heart at the prospect of losing him. She snuggled in closer to him and peppered his warm chest with kisses until they both fell back asleep.

Hours later she woke up starving. Nick was still fast asleep and she gently extricated herself from his arms. Even with the blankets tossed off him, settled somewhere in a jumbled tangle just shy of his waist, he radiated heat. Pulling on his tee-shirt she tiptoed to the kitchen and put a kettle on. She reckoned she could rustle up a turkey casserole for dinner if she started it now but first coffee and breakfast. She dipped slices of her own bread in the egg mix and fried them up and set some aside in case Nick woke up hungry.

Glancing over at him, he seemed a little restless in bed; he probably needed more sleep, to be _fully_ rested. She was a little stiff and sore herself and she blushed remembering the several reasons for the state she was in. She bit her lip thinking over what she could do with him later, the ‘deal extension’ was definitely one of his better ideas. 

The hours slipped by and Ellie did lots of little chores, resetting the fire, tidying up their strewn clothes, preparing her slow-cooked casserole, even baking a fresh loaf of crusty bread to go with it. Nick still slept. It was odd. She had never seen him sleep more than a handful of hours at a go, a consequence he had told her of his undercover years.

Something was …off.

A gnawing worry grew in her chest. She took a glass of water over to the locker and sat on the bed her hip nudging up against his but she got no response.

‘Wake up sleepyhead’ she called him with forced cheeriness. It was only then she noticed the sheen of sweat on his forehead, beads of perspiration had gathered in the folds of skin on his neck. A mottled flush was visible across his chest and cheeks.

‘Nick?’

She felt his damp brow tentatively knowing already he was burning up, restlessly he pulled away from her cool fingers.

‘Torres! Come on, wake up! Nick? You’re scaring me now’


	11. Risk management

Ellie Bishop was a revelation.

He didn’t know what he was expecting but this was just…wow!

Nick had fallen back to sleep, with Ellie in his arms still kissing his chest and a dorky smile on his face. Being with her felt better than if all his birthday and Christmas wishes had come true all at once. He really, _really_ wanted to go again, round number who the hell knew at this point!

But he had to admit he felt…tired.

Not _so_ tired that he would turn down the earlier morning call to warm her up, like he would _ever_ say no to that! But he was glad _that_ was a slow, sensual spooning adventure rather than some of the other more gymnastic plans he had for Ms Bishop now that they had time with the whole ‘deal extension’.

Thank god she hadn’t refused but there had been a tense few seconds where his heart had shuddered in panic that he had pushed her, and their arrangement, too far.

There were very few things Nick had not done bedroom-wise, and ‘firsts’ tended to be a thing of the past. He had had sex countless times, but right here, with Ellie, it was different - he had a first. He had made love, and he knew nothing would ever compare to the feeling.

He was getting greedy, he wanted _all_ of Ellie, for all his life. He just had to remember that he had more of her now than he had yesterday, which was more than he ever really believed he would _ever_ have. Small steps forward, with a few giant leaps; he hoped there would be no going back and eventually, maybe, they could walk ahead together. He drifted off dreaming of a special sunny day, holding hands, of white lace, pretty flowers and her sparkling eyes in the moonlight as they danced _their_ dance…

Even in his drowsy half-sleep his head hurt, like a muggy hangover headache he couldn’t shake off. Every muscle groaned with dull aching. God, he thought he was fit but a night with Ellie had left him exhausted. Despite feeling crap he smiled, still savouring the afterglow.

_Sleep Torres, you just need a few hours of sleep._

He pulled Ellie closer with a hum of happiness and drifted off.

His head felt as if someone had shaken it until his brain was thoroughly bruised. Shooting pains stabbed chaotically through his muscles and there was a ringing in his ears. He licked at his parched and cracked lips feeling the thickness of his saliva. He felt thirsty but too drained to move,

and Jesus it was hot!

He sank back into a confusing, disturbing dream; a pulse of muted fear coursed through his veins. Someone was coming for him and he couldn’t find her. Where was Ellie? He was overcome with a sense of looming dread... and then the dream shifted.

He was suddenly back in that hellhole in Puerto Rico again, the heat, the humidity, a dank, dark cell. Why did drug dealers always have filthy punishment rooms? A soft voice was talking, calling his name, far away. That was Ellie.

Did they have her too? Were they hurting her?

The breath left Nick’s body in a whoosh.

‘No, no, no, NO! _Ellie_!’

He tried to get some air into his lungs, but his breaths came fitfully, fear and panic coursed through his body.

They’d come for him soon, then the torture would start again. He hated the rats…and as for snakes!

He felt cold again and pulled the blankets in closer about his neck. He shivered in the heat. Headache, everything aches, head pounding, stomach-churning, hot, cold. He hated cold things. Chilled hands and fingers probed him; a freezing damp cloth stung his dry skin making the shivering start again. His jaws hurt trying to control his chattering teeth.

‘Sip Nick, just sip’. She sounded upset, anxious. That Jake was a dead man. Ellie’s warm scent surrounded him.

_You always smell so good, sweet and soft like vanilla and honey._

Her soothing hands raised his head up causing blinding pain again. Cool water forced between his lips and her hand brushing his face. He coughed and spluttered in confusion.

_What the fuck was going on?_

Sofia stood in the doorway of the cell, but she had long, blonde hair now, her features shifted and rippled no matter how hard he tried to focus. Someone was pulling her hand and she turned away. He was going to lose her again. He reached out but Ellie was gone.

‘Stay, don’t leave me’ his throat constricted in panic, his voice sounded groggy and broken even to his own ears.

‘I’m not going anywhere, Nick’,

He melted with relief. But the dreams found him again.

‘Nick, swallow, come on swallow for me please’ something chalky and bitter hit his tongue.

 _Nope, not having that!_ He spat that nasty thing out.

More water, then Ellie crooned something soft and relaxing before popping a warm finger covered in that delicious vanilla sauce right in his mouth. _This must be a dream!_ He didn’t remember it being gritty before, but he’d let Ellie do that finger-tasting thing all night long. _Best dream ever!_ He loved her so much, his every breath sang her name. He sucked the sweet nectar again as her other hand combed through his hair, but he lost himself to his nightmares again.

The snake slipped under the door of his cell, its milky scales glowing in the gloom as it slithered nearer. He tried to move away but the thing got closer. His limbs refused to move, paralysed in revulsion even as it sank its fangs into the stretched skin of his shoulder.

Pain seared through his arm worse than a branding iron. Instinctively, his hand curled around the snake, squeezing and crushing the life out of it, all the while the pain in his deltoid burned and radiated.

Every thought he had blurred in confusion. In the far distance, he heard a hissing sob. His mind screamed out as the pain drove through his shoulder again. His eyes blinked open and he focused on the impossibility of his empty hand, no snake. Ellie’s frazzled face came into focus, had she been crying? He tried to reach up to touch her damp cheek but the burning pain licked up his arm like a scorching fire.

‘Shh, Nick rest’ her faint, muffled voice penetrated his sleepy haze. Her hands brushed over his forehead again and he drifted back to a restless doze as the pain settled into a sort of sharp throbbing that kept time with his heart, like someone was poking him repeatedly with a burning stick.

Slowly the pain seeped away and the dreams faded into the murky realms of his memory.

He woke with a jolt, his hand searching the bed but it was empty, cold; she was gone.

‘Ellie?’ his panicked voice sounded shrill to his ears.

‘I’m here, go back to sleep’. Her voice calmed him even as he felt her fingers interlace with his own.

When he woke again he was aware of two things, one he was parched but relatively clear-headed and two, someone was swabbing his chest and armpits with a cool flannel. He peeked up with one eye squinted but already knew the gentle touch was Ellie’s.

‘Bishop, why are you washing me?’ he tried to clear his crusty dry throat.

‘It’s called tepid sponging’ she answered in a hushed, level tone, continuing doing what she was doing.

‘Is this some kind of kinky nurse fetish I don’t know about? If it is, I am _so_ not complaining’. He tried to smirk but his lips felt so dry he thought they would crack.

She didn’t reply, she just rinsed out the cloth and placed it on his forehead. He was unnerved by her silence. Something was wrong. He did a quick visual assessment of her; she was ok, a little pale maybe but ok.

She rubbed at her neck with a grimace. More than pale, she looked worn out.

‘Ellie?’

Her eyes roamed over his face, she raised an eyebrow, studying him, checking for his alertness maybe, before she responded.

‘You’re hot’

‘Thanks’ he replied glibly. She tipped back her head and rolled her eyes like she always did at his cockiness.

‘I mean you’re _hot_ hot!’ she blurted, like that explained everything.

‘Again, thanks, but it’s hardly news’ he managed a hoarse laugh then winced with a stab of pain. It was a cheesy line but it worked.

‘Could you be serious for two seconds!’ She huffed in exasperation, but the edges of her lips twitched with a suppressed smile.

He attempted to pull himself up to sit but Ellie jumped forward to help, adjusting his shoulders against the pillows. Sitting down beside him on the bed, she handed him a glass of water, demanding he drink it with just an eyeballing stare. By the time he had finished it, she had a jug ready to pour another and was offering him a handful of tablets. With another glug, he swallowed them without asking what or why.

‘Fever, Nick, you’ve had a fever, and damn near scared me to death!’

Now he saw the stress in her face, she looked exhausted, shadows smudged the delicate skin under her eyes and her hair stuck out in all directions from a messy bun.

‘Well that explains the weird dreams, next time I’ll book Vegas, not Puerto Rico!’ he joked flippantly, that earned him a baleful glare.

‘ _Nick!’_ Oh, she was mad, he could tell by the emphasis she put on his name.

‘Go ahead, let me have it, you’re pissed off at me for something’ he got the death stare for that.

‘You should’ve told me you were in pain’ her voice started dangerously low. ‘That stab wound is completely infected; you could have gotten septicaemia, or gangrene or need an amputation!’ she yelled as she grabbed a random medical book off the nightstand and waved it at him pointing to a page.

‘Sounds a little dramatic B’ he replied placatingly.

She actually growled back at him. He held up his hands in defence at her murderous frown.

‘I would have mentioned it but you distracted me with your breasts’ he flashed her his most charming smile and a wink but it was _so_ the wrong move.

_Oh God!_

He watched as she tilted her head back and squeezed her eyes shut in explosive frustration. He knew she was seriously pissed when she started spewing swear words in several languages. ‘Hombre espúpido’ he got, and that was the mildest of epithets she had for him.

‘That arm must have been _killing_ you for days and _you_ , you chopped wood, dragged in a Christmas tree and did… _other_ stuff when you should have been resting it!’ she was blushing furiously now and her breathing was erratic as she tried to control her temper. ‘Nick you said nothing, didn’t monitor it and let it fester!’

‘It wasn’t so bad, just a little achy really’ he tried minimising the injury, another epic fail.

 _Jesus, she is sexy when she’s angry_. He should’ve worked harder at controlling his face.

‘ _Nicolas Torres_!’ she yelled back in her most scathing, about to tear him a new one tone. ‘You’ve been burning up with a fever since yesterday morning, and it’s almost 7 pm now’ she stood up over him, her arms crossed with a frosty expression.

‘ _What!_ I’ve been out for nearly _two_ days?’ Stunned, he fixated on the awful fact he had lost all that time, time he could've spent with Ellie as part of their ‘deal’. He shook his head to refocus on her continuing high-pitched vent.

‘I couldn’t wake you up. I’ve been pulling my hair out trying to figure out what was wrong with you. Then I peeled back that dressing and oh god, _disgusting_ , and you were burning up, shivering and delirious! Luckily, I found antibiotic pills and more Tylenol in the zombie stockpile. But I didn’t know if you were allergic to penicillin or the proper dosage… I could’ve _killed_ you giving you the medicine or you could’ve _died_ without it and then you wouldn’t swallow them…’ her voice grew shrill as she tripped over the litany of her fears.

He took hold of her hand again, ‘Breathe Ellie, just breathe, I’m ok, whatever you did worked’. Her chin dropped to her chest as she wilted against the edge of the bed.

‘You could have died Nick’ she whispered forlornly; her chest heaved in suppressed sobs of pent-up anxiety…for him. He couldn’t remember a time someone was so genuinely, cut up worried about him.

He felt thoroughly chastised now and tried to get up to comfort her somehow, but she glared ferociously at him until he meekly retreated back into the bed. She was still rightly furious at him for his lack of due diligence of his own health.

‘Did you feed me medicine in syrup?’ a light bulb going off in his head.

‘Yeah, I crushed the pills and added them to some of the vanilla custard I made…I thought it would disguise the taste and it would be easier to get down…but you wouldn’t take it off a spoon’ Her cheeks glowed a rosy blush as she avoided his eyes. So it was her fingers he remembered licking in his fever dream.

He wondered what else was real and what was delusion.

‘I swear, if you were no better in the next hour I was hiking out to find that damn road-,’ Her voice had raised through an octave or two and he knew he had really frightened her.

‘I’m sorry Ellie, for scaring you, but I was feeling fine before I fell asleep…more than fine…great in fact’ he took her trembling hands in his and pulled her forward to peck a kiss on her forehead. He was quite sure he needed to freshen up before kissing her properly.

‘You might not like me so much when you see your arm…I had to lance the abscess, squeeze out all the infected pus’ she squinted in discomfort and his own stomach rolled in revulsion at the idea.

‘The snake!’

‘Huh?’

_No, no, no!_

He pulled up her sleeve but her flinch had already told him what he had done to her.

‘ _Jesus Christ!_ Ellie, I am so sorry!’ the fresh bruising formed an angry purple and blue imprint of his hand and fingers wrapped all around her forearm. He felt sick just looking at it; he could have broken her arm easily. She pulled the sleeve back down and soothingly caressed his cheek.

‘Don’t worry about it, you were in pain’. She spoke in her unflappable tone like he had forgotten to get marshmallows on her hot chocolate.

‘That’s no excuse, I _hurt_ you’ he muttered disconsolately, he couldn’t even look at her.

‘Nick, I had to use the straight blade to open up the stab wound, it must have been excruciating. It was an unconscious, reflex reaction. You did nothing wrong!’ she reassured him emphatically.

He shook his head, still disgusted with himself.

‘If it makes you feel better, while the bruise will fade, I probably scarred you for life!’

‘Don’t worry about it’.

Ellie Bishop had left an indelible mark on his heart a long time again. He couldn’t tell her that though, not yet. The horrible thought popped into his head though that he may have already spilt his guts about his real feelings for her.

‘Did I, um, say anything _crazy_ , you know when I was _totally_ delirious?’

‘Like what?’ she asked archly.

‘I don’t know like anything…heavy?’

‘Nothing I didn’t already know Nick’ she actually smirked and pecked him with a kiss on the forehead. He gaped back at her, trying to figure out was she teasing or not. Now she smiled mischievously at him as she noticed his nervous uncertainty. God, that woman’s smile made his heart race!

Gingerly he poked at the bandaged dressing on his upper arm and recoiled with the biting sting.

‘Touch that dressing again Torres and so help me-,’ she warned him ominously.

‘You’re growling again, it’s adorable’ he got another eye roll for that but felt a satisfied smile tug at his mouth as she struggled to contain her nervous laugh.

‘You’ll make the scarring worse if you pick at it’ she warned him, slapping his hand away when he went to itch it again.

‘Well luckily for me I’ve heard chicks dig scars’. War wound chat-up lines were so cliché.

‘I’m sure they do, silver lining, huh?’ she retorted flatly. She stood up abruptly and started clearing away the washbowl and flannels from the locker. He could have bitten his tongue off as he saw the flash of hurt cross her face.

 _What the fuck Torres!_ His days of flirting with ‘chicks’ or anyone other than the blonde beauty in front of him were over.

‘Ellie, sorry it was just a stupid offhand remark-,’

‘Nick, it’s fine I’m just tired and being oversensitive, I guess’ her expression was guarded as she shuffled off towards the kitchen. ‘I’m going to make us something to eat, could you manage some casserole?’

‘Don’t go to any trouble Ellie, please, you’ve already done too much’. Guilt ate him more than the grumbling of his empty stomach at the mere mention of food.

‘I made it yesterday, I haven’t tried it yet what with everything…’

‘Ellie, when did you last eat?’

‘I had some coffee earlier sometime…’ she answered evasively, already clattering utensils in the kitchen.

‘And sleep?’ he grilled her pointedly

‘Umm…’

Nick pulled back the sheet, swung his legs out and rose unsteadily to his feet; he was done being a burden on her. It was against Nurse Ellie’s orders to be moving right now but he needed the washroom and he'd have to have both legs broken before he'd ask for assistance with that. It took a moment for the spinning to stop.

She was beside him when he opened his eyes again.

‘Nick, do you need help?’

‘ _Nooo_ , of course not.’ He stood up again slowly and shocked by his level of weakness. ‘Um, well maybe a little?’

‘Lean on me’ she ordered, nestling herself immediately under his arm, supporting him with her surprisingly strong frame. He was halfway to the littlest room when he twigged, he was stark naked, and Ellie seemed obliviously indifferent to that.

Jesus, he needed to get his sexy mojo back stat!

When he came out of the toilet, she had set up the high stool at the sink, a basin of warm water, and everything he needed to freshen up along with a pile of fresh boxers and a large tee-shirt.

‘Dinner will be twenty minutes, take your time, I’m just going to put fresh sheets on the bed’ she explained watching him with an eagle-eye until he was steady on his seat. ‘Shout if you need help’. Impulsively he grabbed her hand and kissed the inside crease of her elbow. As tired as she was, he instantly saw her eyes widen, her pupils darkened and with a shuddery breath she pulled his head to her chest, wrapping her arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

‘Don’t _ever_ frighten me like that again Nick’ she whispered before extricating herself.

‘I’ll do my best not to’ he promised sincerely, completely blown away by concerned she was and by how much effort she had gone to, to care for him.

‘You better! And Nick-,’ she called back over her shoulder.

‘Yeah?’

‘Use _lots_ of soap’ she chuckled as she started pulling the linens from the bed.

‘Are you saying I smell?’ he asked in theatrical disbelief, her back was to him but he reckoned she was still laughing.

‘Yeah, but I still love you’ her hands froze for a moment and then continued a little brisker than before. It was a turn of phrase that he fervently wished was true but he didn’t want to push her to repeat it or clarify in case she took it back with all the embarrassing awkwardness _that_ would entail. So, even as his face beamed and his heart danced a joyful jig, he tried to calm her obvious agitation.

‘Lots of soap, got it boss!’ he watched as her shoulders relaxed and knew he had made the right call.

Definitely feeling a whole lot better after washing up and dressing in fresh clothes, he took a seat at the table and tucked into a bowl of her delicious, hearty stew, watching her carefully to make sure she ate enough herself. Afterwards, even though he felt drained, he refused to go back to bed and instead he sat in one of the armchairs as a compromise while Ellie hummed along to the radio as she cleared the table. The fire crackled merrily, and he was warm and full and comfortable and happy. Without meaning to he must have fallen asleep again.

The sizzling noise of radio static woke him. Ellie was sat on the floor in front of him, papers scattered around her in full analyst mode.

‘Hey you, feeling better?’ She stifled a yawn, stretching her arms over her head, revealing a glimpse of her pale midriff.

‘Yeah, was I asleep for long?’ he scrubbed a hand over his face and noticed she had tucked a blanket all around him.

‘About an hour, sorry I probably woke you. Why don’t you head to bed?’

‘Maybe later. B, whatcha doing?’ he asked her, suddenly curious about the maps, radio, lengths of string and pages covered in scribbled notes circling her.

‘I um, came up with a theory last night about how to extrapolate where we are and I’m still working on it’.

‘Hit me with it’ he knew whatever it was would be complicated and probably genius but that talking it out usually helped her focus.

‘Well, listening to the radio while you were sleeping it dawned on me, FM radio signals only have a 30-40mile radius from the point of broadcast. So, I kept flicking through the stations until they mention their base location, usually small towns, identifying road closures, local business commercials, that kind of thing. Clear reception is within the 35mile radius; fuzzy or crackling I guess about 40 miles. I also found a service sticker on the propane tank for Elkins, West Virginia’ her face was lit up as her amazing brain chugged through the parameters, data and statistics as she unconsciously nibbled on another chocolate chip cookie. ‘So, I mark each mention and circle a radius, and adjust the scale between maps and I _think_ we’re somewhere in this zone here or within 5 miles of it’, she pointed to the large green area on her map.

‘Wow’

‘So, I just need a rough idea of how long we walked for after the car went into the pond to pinpoint this cabin’, she looked at him intently with her pencil poised.

‘Uh, I guess we ran for about twenty minutes then you got sick again, then walking for about ten minutes until you collapsed and then I started carrying you’ she was scribbling madly working out the distance.

‘Ok, so taking into account snow, rough terrain…and how long did you carry me for, roughly?’

‘Um, about an hour, maybe more’ he cleared his throat as her pencil stopped doing the maths.

‘How much more Nick?’

‘I had to get you somewhere safe, somewhere sheltered’

‘How long did you carry me for Nick?’

‘Well if it helps with your sums probably best to pencil in nearer to two hours, but the going got slow with the weather getting worse and all’

‘You carried me for at least five miles, in a blizzard, with a stab wound’ her jaw dropped as she tried to compute the information.

He just shrugged his shoulders, there wasn’t much he could say without stressing her out about how close a thing it actually was. He still remembered the blue tinge to her skin, the glistening frost on her eyelashes as he held her in his arms. Ellie abruptly popped up from her spot on the rug and shuffled on her knees over to his chair. Kneeling between his legs she pulled a fistful of his tee-shirt until he leaned forward where she proceeded to place a firm, full-mouthed kiss on his willing lips. Pulling back a little she leaned in against him, their foreheads connecting, and she kissed him gently again.

‘Thank you, for taking care of me’

‘I guess we’re even now, huh?’ he returned softly.

She kissed him again in agreement and his hands slipped up to her neck, his thumbs brushing her delicate jaw as he ignored the burning in his arm caused by the movement.

_Worth it!_

Then something triggered a memory ‘Ellie, earlier you said you were going to head out to find the road, you weren’t serious, were you?’

‘Well things were looking bleak, you needed proper medical care Nick’

‘Risking yourself, on a hunch, in the snow, in the wilderness, at nightfall, on your own… _Ellie_?’ He almost growled at her as she dipped her face down lower with each point, the tell-tale flush already hitting her cheeks.

‘The snow had stopped, I had proper winter clothing and a compass and a torch and what, you don’t trust my hypothesis? It’s a sound theory based on the available data-,’

He cut off her babbling ass-covering excuse with another kiss.

‘I don’t doubt your reasoning Ellie, but promise me you’ll never even think about risking yourself like that, ever’

‘You’d do it for me’ she countered astutely.

‘Yes, but that’s different’

‘Eh _why_?’ her eyebrows jumped two inches north with sassy vexation.

‘I’m an expendable idiot and you’re an irreplaceable national security asset. And Gibbs would kill me if I let anything happen to you. You're important to him’.

‘You're important to _me_ Nick’. Her hazel eyes locked onto his own and he struggled to speak as emotion tightened his throat.

‘And you are irreplaceable to _me_ ’.

He so wanted to tell her he loved her; it was on the tip of his tongue, but something held him back. He was 100% sure of his own feelings but she had enough emotional baggage to deal with without him lobbing in his own, adding to her pressures. She was conflicted enough; he was _not_ going to do a Jake and manipulate her into saying what he wanted to hear back, just out of some sense of reciprocal obligation. When she was ready, _if_ she felt the same, she would tell him in her own time. Now, being with her, had to be enough.

Ok, it would never be _enough_ , but he wouldn’t risk what they had.

‘Come on, you're exhausted, bed’ he hauled himself up and pulled her up from the floor with his good hand.

‘I might work on his for another while. I’m fine on the couch Nick, you need your rest’. His guts knotted in anxiety that she was trying to put some distance between them, but the kiss she gave him was a tad too long to be chaste.

‘Please Ellie, humour a man when he’s ill, come to bed with me’ she smiled despite herself and he knew he had won her over. She nodded and went to do her night-time routine while he pulled off his tee-shirt and sat up in the crisp, freshly-made bedsheets sipping on another glass of water. Not paying attention he spilt some down his chest and as he brushed it off he stilled and watched her watching him from the kitchen. She realised what she was doing and jerked her eyes away. A few minutes more slipped by.

‘I thought we agreed you were going to be going with me?’ Nick reminded her

‘We did’ she walked over towards the bed in just a tee-shirt, her long, wavy tresses unravelled around her shoulders but with an indecisive look on her face, ‘but you need to _rest_ Nick, get some _real_ sleep’.

‘So do you Bishop’

She nodded but the way she bit on her bottom lip suggested she was having other ideas, fun ideas she was fighting out of a sense of concern for his health. _Fuck that!_

He pulled back the sheets and shuffled over to make room for her, and she didn’t need to be asked again. Her body snuggled up against him, her nose buried in the crook of his neck. He groaned quietly as she adjusted her bare legs, her thigh accidentally brushing his balls and he felt himself harden against her.

‘You're sick, you need rest’ she admonished him in a muffled voice, obviously feeling the movement of his boy expanding against her hip.

‘I’m feeling _much_ better now’ he assured her, his fingers brushing the skin of her flank that had been uncovered as her tee-shirt had ridden up. Her heard a vibration of a hum escape her and he smiled in delight.

Chancing his luck, he dipped his head and lowered his lips to her exposed neck, licking and sucking her pulse point, knowing full well it was her weak spot.

‘ _Nick!_ ’ she gasped, ‘you're ill!’

‘I’ve injured my arm not my di-,’

Scandalised she slapped his good shoulder with a backhander, ‘Nick!’

She was still scolding him as her fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down over his hips.

_And this is why guys have nurse fantasies!_


	12. Resilience

Ellie sat contentedly on the floor, propped comfortable between Nick’s legs in front of the blazing fire. As she continued her work on her location theory, Nick played idly with her hair, repeatedly looping and twisting her long tresses between his fingers. Last night had proved that Nick was well and truly ‘much better’ and the antibiotics had reduced both his fever and the angry inflammation around the stab wound. She leaned back her head into his lap and looked at him from the upside-down position.

‘Any preference for lunch?’

‘My turn to cook Ellie’ he leaned forward on the armchair and kissed her from his inverted position, capturing her bottom lip in a move that reminded her of that _Spiderman_ movie scene. The casual intimacy between them took her breath away.

The night before she had caught herself staring at him while he sat topless in the bed, he was everything she could ever imagine wanting; honest and kind, thoughtful and fun, supportive and strong, sexy as hell and now that his stubble had just started to grow back …the heat rose to her face now just as it had last night. She knew exactly what she wanted him to do with that rasping, rough… she crossed her legs and squeezed tightly to quieten the burning tingling already building as she thought about Nick, and that stubble… _there_.

‘I think we should probably do a stocktake of the food store today, maybe we should be more organised in what we use…’ she wriggled in her seat, a warm glow reigniting low in her abdomen.

Nick dropped his gaze and she felt her heart sink.

‘Ellie, we can’t stay. We have to try and make contact with someone’ his tone was muted but determined.

‘I know’ she muttered reluctantly.

‘Gibbs, your family, they’ll be going out of their minds with worry. We were taken last Friday, it’s now Thursday. The weather report says no more snow. We _have_ to try’.

‘I know, I just...not today ok?’ Ellie felt her throat tightening and swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the ball of emotion that had gotten stuck there

‘Tomorrow’ he replied resolutely.

‘Yeah, tomorrow’ she sighed despondently.

It was like all the joy had been sucked out of the cabin from that point on. They ate their cheese macaroni quietly, tidied up and morosely returned items back to where they had found them, then finally organised what they would need for setting out in the morning both on autopilot.

They would go by her analysis; she had almost certainly identified the road and the pond the car went into. The nearest named town was just under ten miles from there. So roughly a four-hour hike to civilisation, all going well. They decided they would start out at first light so if the calculations were _way_ wrong, they could still make it back to the cabin before nightfall, worst-case scenario. There might not be fresh snowfall forecast but it was still freezing outside, and the snowdrifts were plenty deep.

‘So, I had an idea, we could maybe leave a note in any mailbox we come across along the road. Not every cabin is locked up for the winter, people must live around here and now the storm has passed they’ll collect their post. We can just ask them to call NCIS and alert the guys where to start looking for us’

‘Yeah good idea, NCIS could then at least let your mom and brothers know you're alive’. He was quite adamant about not including Jake in her concerned kin list.

‘What about _your_ family Nick, you um, never really mention them’. She wasn’t being nosey…well ok she _was_ a little, but she just wanted to understand Nick a bit more. She was expecting the _Star Trek_ type ‘shields up, evasive manoeuvres’ response she would usually get when she delicately probed his personal life but instead, he flopped down onto the leather armchair pulled her onto his lap, waiting until she was snuggled in against his chest before he began.

She let him talk without interruption, only the slight stall of his breathing gave away his anger describing his heavy drinking, skipped out of town dead-beat dad. He was estranged from his mom, mental health issues and emotionally distant Ellie surmised from some of the childhood hurts Nick spoke of. He had an older sister Lucia who was married with a teenage kid in San Diego. They were closer years ago, but their jobs and the distance made it difficult now.

‘But that’s just an excuse really, she’s asked me to come to visit plenty of times, to meet Amanda, my niece. I don’t even know why I keep putting it off, it’s been five years now, too long maybe’

‘When we get home, you should go visit her Nick. Build bridges, not walls.’

‘Would you- no nothing’ he snapped his mouth shut abruptly and she felt a brusque shake of his head from her snuggled position. She disentangled herself and faced him.

‘Would I what? Nick?’ she noticed his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

‘Would you come with me’ he asked hesitantly, ‘if I book us some flights, moral support, just for a few days?’

‘Of course, I will’ she answered unequivocally.

‘Really?’ Was he still surprised that she would always have his back?

‘Whatever you need Nick. It’s the least I can do’

‘Ellie, you know you don’t _owe_ me anything? _This,_ between us, there no repayment or obligation’

She didn’t reply. How could she explain to him she owed him everything?

He tilted her chin up until he locked eyes with her, ‘Ellie, I mean it. I’m a very willing participant not a hostage to your desires’ he replied, the corners of his lips fighting a smile, his eyebrows slightly raised with a playful smirk, the kind of smirk that lit all those fires way down deep below and turned up her heat to max. She couldn’t help but laugh as he landed a barrage of kisses on her ticklish neck.

A few minutes passed and shifting away from the earlier tense subject, she listed the preparations. ‘So we’re all set for tomorrow. Clothing, boots, the map and compass, first aid and emergency kit. I’ll make sandwiches when the bread is baked, a couple of thermos flasks of hot soup and the guns are loaded and ready’

‘I’ve written a note for the owners, with our contact details, so we can repay them for what we used’

‘Good idea’ she replied, her voice sounding subdued even to her own ears.

Ellie could feel the panic building in her chest, they really were leaving here in only a few more hours. The cabin was a refuge, a sanctuary where her body, heart and soul had been saved, cherished and kept safe. To say that she was feeling _reluctant_ to leave was a colossal understatement.

That night they made love like it was the last time. Desperately clinging to one another, holding on tight, savouring every moment, knowing they needed to sleep but neither wanting to quit touching, kissing, being together. Eventually, both of them physically and emotionally exhausted they gave up and with a last lingering kiss they silently got up and started the last chores they needed to do before the dawn.

The indigo morning sky was barely streaked with violet in the east as they stood on the porch, their breaths puffing steamy clouds in the freezing air. Nick slid the lock over on the door and shucked up his backpack on his shoulders, repositioning the strap of the shotgun at the same time. Ellie took a last long look around the yard where they had had their silly snowball fight in only a few days ago, before everything changed. Before they had made love.

She felt hollow, carved out to be leaving their idyllic, fantasy realm.

Back now to the real world where monsters live.

His touch shook her out of her sinister trance. His big hand wrapped around hers and right there, with _that_ touch, his rough thumb stroking her knuckle, she calmed. She weaved her petite fingers through his robust extremities, they felt soft and soothing, yet rugged and solid. Just like Nick, she thought, looking into his deep, dark eyes, her cheeks reddening. Her hand was warm in his, her nerves tingling at the comfort of contact.

She could do this. They were together.

The sun rose slowly over the hills as they trudged hand in hand through the snow. They had an alpine walking pole each to sound out the hidden obstructions, dips and dells beneath the crusted white blanket. Now was not the time for a twisted or broken ankle. The air was cold, a light breeze gently swayed the trees and they could hear thuds as clumps of snow fell from the laden branches.

‘So what did you miss most, what’ll you do first as soon as you get back?’ Nick asked jovially to pass the time after an hour or so of trekking.

‘A shower and spicy prawn chow mein, extra broccoli’ she answered immediately, licking her lips in anticipation.

‘That was fairly emphatic Ellie, are you complaining about my cabin cooking?’ he gave her a lopsided smile.

‘Never! I’ll miss you cooking for me, sharing a kitchen, eating together’ her voice petered out as her smile evaporated.

‘Ellie, when we get back, I really want-,’ he held up a hand, but she had heard it too. They both reached for their weapons simultaneously, aiming towards the trees to their right where the distinctly human sneeze came from. Ellie took point behind the tree they were at, while Nick headed wide to circle back around. It was always a possibility they would run into mountain folk, locals who lived in these hills or maybe even search teams looking for them.

But the fact remained the scumbag who took them had a shack in these woods, and he had a brother too. Nick was sure the guy had made it out of the icy pond to the shore. And he’d have an axe to grind. They’d have been holed up through the storm too, and this was the most direct route towards civilisation for their escape with the proceeds of the bank robbing spree. 

She and Nick both acknowledged what their guts told them. Friendly folk would have hollered out a salute. Whoever this was was actively trying to conceal their position.

Ellie had a clear enough view through the treeline and just caught a glimpse of movement a couple of hundred metres away. Looking along the rudimentary scope of the rifle she zeroed in on the rock formation in the distance, the most likely area where the sneeze had come from.

She moved forward, hugging closely to the trees for cover until she was within range. She checked the scope again keeping her breathing calm until he moved into view, she would know his bulky frame, his puffy face anywhere. It was the guy who had almost strangled her and who had tied them up, dumped them in the trunk and planned to do… _stuff_ with them, with _her_ in particular.

She saw him raise his own rifle and take aim at something far off to her left; _Nick!_ Without hesitation, she fired and was gratified with his cursing as she got a hit, upper shoulder by the looks of it. Taking aim again she heard a shotgun go off and hoped it was Nick hitting the dude too.

She scoured the rocky escarpment for Nick and his navy blue jacket but no, nothing. With anxiety starting to churn in her stomach, she felt the burn of nausea rise up her throat but she moved forward again, she had to be sure the guy was neutralised, that Nick was safe, she knew the woods and wilds were not his comfort zone.

In the distance, two more shots rang out, another shotgun blast and a high calibre rifle by the sounds of it.

Just about to move forward again she was suddenly slammed against the tree with a force that knocked the air out of her lungs. She was at a loss to know what the hell had happened until she felt the burn in her left thigh building to a crescendo of agonising pain. She looked down and slapped her hand down on the gunshot wound already welling up with blood that oozed through her padded ski pants.

Grimacing and gritting her teeth she shuffled until she sat upright with the tree trunk against her back for support and defensive cover. She had dropped her rifle with the force of the impact, and she had to reach across herself to try to grab it whilst still applying pressure to her thigh. The snow around her was turning a disgusting shade of dark pink as her blood leaked out. Concentrating on the task so as not to think about the pain or the blood or the bile at the back of her throat, she pulled off her scarf and tied it over the wound as tightly as she could without puking with the pain. The rifle strap was still just beyond her grasp when two boots came into her view.

Looking up she saw a stranger, but the guy had his weapon aimed at her chest, so she took it he was not a friendly neighbour or good Samaritan.

‘So, you must be the crazy ninja bitch’ he sneered, his lips pulling back to showcase his yellowing, crooked teeth. This guy wasn’t as big as his brother, he had a narrow, pointed, weaselly face that was pock-marked with old acne scars. His lank hair was thinning on top, but she put his age at maybe thirty-ish at most.

‘And you must be Jace, the idiot’s brother,’ she reckoned this would not end well either way, best to go out fighting, with a brave face.

‘Oh, we’re going to have _fun_ with you!’ he sniggered, stowing his weapon over his shoulder. He strode forward grabbing under her arm and hauling her to her feet. The flashes of excruciating pain radiating from her leg almost blinded her but she panted through it and tried another distraction.

‘I think your idiot brother is dead or dying, I just shot him’ she smirked her best smirk until he kneed her hard in her injured thigh causing her to cry out, then gritting her teeth again she hissed in defiant fury at her attacker.

‘You better hope that’s not true, bitch’, he dragged a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to snap back hard against the tree. Eyeballing her she expected a punch but instead, he sickened her as he forced his tongue into her mouth, his stale breath adding to her nausea.

_Now or never, now or never, now or never._

His mouth still on hers, she slipped her hand down until her fingers curled around the hilt of the small kitchen knife. She stealthily pulled it from her waistband, tightened her grip and put all her weight behind it as she drove the blade into the soft flesh his neck, just below his jaw. Stunned, he staggered back, and as he dropped his hold of her, she slipped back down against the tree. Her jacket rucked up and the rough bark tore the skin along her spine as she fell to the ground with a grunt. She spat out the foulness of his taste from her mouth.

Jace did exactly what she hoped he’d do; he pulled the short knife out of his neck and blood spurted out rhythmically as his fingers frantically tried to stem the flow.

In the movies it’s always a quick death, the reality is different.

He stared at her blankly as the realisation of his impending death hit him, the heavy flow of blood seeping around his palm he had clamped to his neck uselessly. With eyes bulging he fell to his knees, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as a horrible gurgle emanated from his throat. Pink and red bubbles spilt from his cyanosed lips onto his chin before he face-planted in the snow across her lower legs causing a jolt of pain that left her panting.

She watched in fascinated silence, detached and aloof from the spectacle, as blood continued to pump from his neck wound, but the pressure was down to a sluggish pulsating drip now as his heart slowed to a stop. The area around her was like an abattoir, blood had sprayed in a wide arcing radius around the tiny copse, the crimson stark in contrast against the pristine white of the surrounding snow.

‘Ellie!’ Nick’s frantic bellowing call echoed around the trees, she idly wondered how long he had been calling her.

‘Yeah, Nick, over here! All clear!’ her own voice barely raised above her usual volume for some reason. Her vision wavered while she concentrated on the scarlet splashes leeching through the pure white layers of snow.

_Wasn’t there a myth or legend about that?_

And that was how Nick found her, still puzzling over where she had read that.

‘ _Jesus Christ!_ ’ he whispered.

‘Relax, it’s not _all_ my blood!’ she giggled uncontrollably as he stood frozen, his face drained to a deathly pale as he took in the scene of slaughter before him.


	13. Holding on

Nick stood at the kitchen sink scrubbing furiously, trying to get the crusted blood off his hands;

Ellie’s blood.

Ignoring the sting of the scalding water, he lathered up and scrubbed some more. Gritting his teeth, he curled his fingers into trembling fists.

Nick was angry. He had failed, he hadn’t kept her safe.

He was also afraid and completely at a fucking loss as to what to do next. Despite everything she was hurt, _bleeding_ and they were still stuck in the middle of nowhere.

And now he had to decide; leave her to try to get help or stay with her?

What if he left and she needed him or started to bleed again?

What if he stayed and she got worse, what more could he do to help her?

He finally understood the dilemma she had been faced with when he was feverish.

His mind kept flashing back to the nightmare scene he had found her in. Blood everywhere. Her face a ghastly shade of pale. He had dragged the corpse off her feet while she babbled away hysterically about fairy tales and Rule 9 and adamantly declaring she was ‘fine’ despite what his eyes told him. She eventually zoned out a bit, he could see her eyes glaze over as she let her mind drift off, which was expected seeing as she was in pain and probably heading towards hypovolaemic shock due to blood loss anyways. 

It was just too much to process. Mechanically he focused on the issue at hand; priority one, stop the bleeding. His mind stubbornly refused to acknowledge that it was _Ellie_ doing the bleeding.

He methodically untied the scarf she had cleverly used as a temporary tourniquet, ignoring the warm stickiness that clogged its fibres making it difficult to pry open the knot. Then with his own knife, he cut away her sodden trousers revealing the open entry and exit wounds where the bullet had tracked straight through the flesh of her outer thigh. A ‘through and through’ injury was better than if the bullet had lodged itself in her thigh but still the damage was ugly; exposed globules of fat, clots of blood and tissue, and he was very aware that an inch further in and her femur would have shattered with the impact. His mind recoiled from that thought too.

Riffling through his backpack he pulled out the first aid kit, woefully understocked for the injury and gore he was attempting to treat. With trembling fingers, he applied the whole packet of the emergency Haemostat clotting powder and bandaged her up, applying the binding just tight enough to stem the ooze of bleeding. The red soaked through the dressing after a couple of minutes but not so much to really scare him, not arterial. The skin on her exposed leg goose-bumped and shivered in the cold but the overall colour was ok, and she could still move her toes and feel his hand on her calf so no nerve damage that he could tell.

But that was the extent of his knowledge.

_Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?_

Usually this would be the time to call ‘Medic!’ for casualty evacuation and dust-off. But they were alone again in the snowy, silent woods.

Before finding her in the bloodbath, he had eventually shot and killed the driver dude; he had led Nick a merry chase through the trees until the well-aimed shoulder shot she had landed on the guy finally slowed him down. Ellie had also dispatched this guy, messy but definitely dead.

Ellie Bishop could certainly look after herself. She was this crew’s worst nightmare!

Thinking back to their time in the trunk, and what was said between the criminals on the phone there wasn’t anyone else to be worried about coming after them. Nick opened the dead guy’s rucksack and found exactly what he was expecting; bundles of bank-banded $100 bills, lots of them. But he’d be leaving it here. Ellie was his main concern; the bank could wait for the money to be returned.

He would have to get her back to the cabin before he could figure out what to do next.

He accomplished the return trek through true grit and dogged determination, Ellie arguing the whole way that she could hobble along herself, that he would hurt his shoulder, that she was too heavy. She insisted on proving her point, leaning on him as she hopped along until he noticed the trail of droplets of blood behind her and a slick sheen of sweat on her clammy forehead.

‘Enough Bishop!’ he snapped and hauled her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, leading to squeals and swearing. Eventually, he growled at her loud enough that she stopped complaining and let him carry her. He didn’t mention the wet seeping through his own sleeve as his own wound ripped open again. That could wait, she took precedence.

Like before his heart lifted when the lodge came into view.

_This was the weirdest, fucked up Groundhog Day experience ever._

Once indoors he stripped Ellie down to her underwear surprisingly without comment or quarrel, everything was soaked with either her own or Jace’s blood. He then went about reinforcing the pressure dressing on her leg. Though she clenched her jaw so tight she probably chipped her teeth, she had stoically refused to moan, groan or cry throughout, for _his_ benefit he was sure. Even bloody and bleeding she worried about him. There was also the possibility she was going into shock or that the nerves were so damaged she couldn’t even feel the pain. After washing her down with a warm flannel, cleaning away the fine spray and rivulets of dried blood, he propped her up in the bed, wrapped her in blankets and elevated her leg on pillows as gently as he could.

‘Bishop, are you allergic to the amoxicillin?’

‘Nick, those antibiotics are for your arm, I’m fine’

‘Ellie, are you allergic?’ he repeated stubbornly.

‘No, I’m not allergic’ she sighed in defeat.

‘Then swallow, and take these painkillers too’ he stood over her until she glugged them down with the water he gave her. He silently handed her a mug of hot chocolate and a chocolate chip cookie. She needed fluids, sugar and warming up to keep the shock at bay.

He retreated back into his own thoughts while she sipped and nibbled.

‘Nick, are you angry with me?’ she asked despondently.

He stared at Ellie; troubled emotions flashed randomly over her face as she bit down on her bottom lip, it was only then he realised he’d been furiously pacing around the room like a caged lion.

‘What?’ his voice faltered; snapping his gaping mouth shut, he swallowed though his throat was bone dry. It dawned on him he hadn’t offered her a single soft word since he had found her, just ruthless efficiency to treat the wound and get her back to the cabin as quickly as possible.

Huffing out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he gingerly sat beside her on the bed and ran his hands roughly over his face, trying futilely to put his scrambled thoughts into words.

‘ _Never_ Ellie, I’m never mad with you!’ he took her hand away from where she was twisting the bed sheets and kissed her knuckles. ‘I’m just…you need a hospital, but I don’t want to leave you here alone and yes, before you say it, I get it now, what you must have gone through when I was ill.’ He rolled his eyes in frustrated exasperation.

Abruptly he stood up ‘I’m going to get help’.

‘What time is it?’

‘Just after 3 pm, why?’ he squinted at her, confused by her seemingly random question in the vast scheme of things.

‘Well, that decides it. It’ll be fully dark in less than a couple of hours. It’s not enough time. You’re staying; you can’t head out into the woods this late.’ She had that stubborn tilt to her jaw, usually reserved for when he was about to do something stupid, accompanied by the ‘don’t cross me Torres’ look.

He started to argue but she cut him off. ‘Same rules apply to _you_ as for _me_ , Nick. Tomorrow, you can go tomorrow, first thing. Anyway, it’s ok, the bleeding has stopped now’ she said optimistically.

But he had seen the wound. She needed surgery to fix the two gaping holes the bullet had left as it tore through her soft tissues and muscle. She read his expression as he frantically gauged how he could sidestep her order; she really did know him too well.

‘Don’t even think about it Nick! No midnight, moonlit missions when I fall asleep. Promise me you’ll wait till the morning’ she refused to break his eye contact until he caved.

‘Ok B, tomorrow’ he nodded in defeat… _unless she got worse_ , then he’d have to break his promise. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘A little tired maybe’ her eyelids were fluttering in exhaustion. ‘I didn’t think we’d be back here so soon, as a holiday destination I'm not that impressed overall…I’m going to write a _very_ strongly worded letter to the vacation company’.

‘Really?’ he smiled indulgently as she wittered on.

‘Yeah, I mean the chauffeur transfer was well below expected standard, the driver was _rude_ , the Wi-Fi is non-existent, no pool unless you count the unheated, outdoor pond facilities. The night-time entertainment was admittedly -,’ she gave him _that_ mischievous look, ‘… _outstanding,_ but …’

‘But?’

‘On the whole, considering the basic facilities and all, it cost us an arm and a leg’ she replied deadpan.

He spluttered out a raucous laugh which was probably exactly what she was hoping for. She was still giggling when he pecked a kiss on her forehead noticing the cool clamminess. She was in more pain than she was letting on, but he had nothing else medicinal to offer her.

‘Ellie, do you want something to eat? I can heat you up some chicken noodle soup?’

‘Nah, I’m not hungry’ that was a red flag. ‘Can you maybe come to bed for a bit?’ she asked hesitantly.

‘You ok?’ he asked warily.

‘Mm-hum, just feeling a little cold, you always warm me up- no funny business, I promise’ she added with a forced smile, holding up her fingers in a Girl Guide pledge of honesty.

‘Give me two minutes’

She hummed in contented anticipation as he fed more wood into the stove and sneaking into the kitchen so as not to attract her attention, he surreptitiously stripped out of his stained tee-shirt and awkwardly wrapped his weeping shoulder wound with a fresh bandage. He pulled back the sheets and climbed into the bed. He saw a flinch of pain flicker across her face with even the slight movement of the mattress.

It would hit her now like a ton of bricks. The adrenaline and endorphins had worn off and now with the fluid replacement and the warmth, her wound would swell, and every painful damaged nerve would hurt like hell. Tylenol was not going to touch the sides of that pain.

And that was before infection set in, which it would.

Helping her to adjust her leg on pillows so she was on her side and snuggled up against his chest he smoothed her hair with rhythmic strokes and watched her fall into an exhausted, fitful sleep.

His heart careened in his chest as he weighed up the options, risks and potential consequences. Not sure how long he had lost himself in his thoughts he was pulled back to the present when he felt Ellie twitch against him, her fist clenching with discomfort even in her sleep.

And then the gut-wrenching whimpering started.

That was the final straw.

He’d have to break his promise; he was going to leave her here to get help. He was giving it a few more minutes just to be sure she was deep enough in her sleep for him to sneak out away from her. He would leave everything she would need on the locker and hope she could manage for a few hours; water, a sandwich, medications, more bandages, a torch, a book…

And a note, he could only hope she didn’t eviscerate him when he got back to her.

Snuggling in deeper under the blankets he curled himself gently around her for a last cuddle and watched as her pulse hopped at a rapid beat on her neck and felt the rise and fall of her chest against his own. He tried to count them, heart and respiration rates being important for when he reported her condition to the emergency services. Without meaning to he must’ve drifted off into a light doze, his already drained body cried out for rest. He would’ve sunk into a deeper sleep, but something kept distracting him. It took a while before the sounds registered high enough in his consciousness to put a label on them.

Dogs barking? Yelling?

He barely got his rifle to his shoulder before the hammering on the door started ‘Torres! Bishop!’

_Gibbs?_

_I must be hallucinating!_

The door burst open.

Nick sat back against the pillows in stunned relief, his hands still holding his aimed gun, scanning the room totally disorientated as a bulky winter-clothed body strode in.

‘Easy, Torres, stand down!’ instructed Gibbs in his familiar no-nonsense voice, stowing his handgun.

‘Sorry Boss, I um…’ he dropped his weapon.

Gibbs just shrugged his shoulders and gave a knowing smirk as he took in the scene before him.

‘Er, Boss… this isn’t what it looks like’. Ellie was still draped across his topless chest and although he had left her bra on when he undressed her earlier, they appeared to be in a very compromising position.

Gibb’s expression was faintly amused, _relieved_ but amused. ‘It looks like you're trying to warm up an injured and hypothermic team member with your body heat’

‘Oh. Well, then, I guess it _is_ what it looks like. Gibbs, she’s been shot’ he finished tersely.

It just dawned on him then that she hadn’t roused at all with all the fuss, she must have slipped from sleep into unconsciousness.

'Ellie? Ellie!' He desperately tried to wake her but she just groaned.

Nick only then realised the cabin was suddenly filled with other bulky, Hi-Vis clad and booted figures, cops, mountain rescue and thank god, paramedics who swarmed over Bishop doing their thing. Nick reported all her injuries and the medications she had taken, feeling sick at the litany of damage to her petite body in just one week, head injury, prolonged loss of consciousness, concussion, hypothermia, wrist lacerations and now a GSW.

A whirlwind of activity ensued, Gibbs firing out orders, radio comms buzzing, dogs barking like crazy and Ellie crying out as they lifted her, now festooned with IV lines, monitors and foil sheets, onto a medi-evac stretcher. He had already pulled on his clothes and refused to let go of her hand even as Gibbs barked they needed to get her to the Heli-Med lift point in a clearing a mile or so away. His face must have shown his determination to stay with her as Gibbs resignedly called for another Gore-Tex coat and yanked off his own woollen hat and handed it to him, glaring at him until he pulled it on.

On arrival at the trauma centre in Harrisonburg, he had to relinquish his grip of her hand as the doctors and nurses wheeled her into the trauma room. His shoulders drooped as exhaustion hit and he slumped on a hard, plastic chair, eyes closed, giving silent thanks to every celestial being he knew of that she was at a hospital. Minutes or hours passed as he waited for news. Shaking himself out of a doze, he rolled his head around on his aching neck, blinking in the harsh, fluorescent strip-lights and only then did a voice penetrate his brain.

‘Jake Molloy, my wife Eleanor Bishop was just brought in?’ his preppy voice dripped concern.

Turning around Nick saw the guy he wanted to kill, standing with Gibbs and a doctor, nodding along as they discussed Ellie’s condition.

Something detonated in his brain.

He didn’t even know he had crossed the hallway but with a jolt he realised he had a puce-faced and spluttering Jake by the throat, several inches up off floor level and hard against the wall. He continued to tighten his grip, watching as real terror replaced surprise on Jake’s face and it felt fucking great, right up until Gibbs barked in his ear to back off.

Letting go, the asshole crumpled at his feet and scrambled terrified across the lino floor away from Nick and the vicious expression he wasn’t even trying to disguise on his face.

‘I want to press charges!’ the pencil-necked dick choked out.

‘Yeah? I want to press my knuckles into your face’ Nick spat out as drew back his fist ready to punch the guy through the wall, but Gibbs again blocked him.

‘I said stand down Torres! That’s an order!’

Nick’s hulking frame shook with the effort of controlling his anger, his hands still clenched into fists, as Jake stood up, raking shaky fingers through his blond hair to fix it in place. A growl escaped Nick’s chest as he pointed at the jerk.

‘I’ll be having words with you’ he told him ominously; it wasn’t a threat; it was a promise. The squirrelly little man saw it as such too and moved a step closer to Gibbs.

‘Molloy, family room until there’s news’ the older man pointed to the room at the far end of the corridor.

‘You can’t tell me what to do Gibbs, she’s _my_ wife, I’m staying here’ he blustered in a squeaky, nasally voice, not impressing Gibbs one bit by his stony-faced reaction.

‘Fine, I’ll leave you with Torres, apparently he wants a chat with you’.

Jake scurried off almost immediately, closing over the door of the private waiting room.

‘Torres, go to triage, you need to be assessed, I talk to you about _this_ later’ his boss tutted irritably.

‘I’m fine’ he snorted, still eyeballing the family room door.

‘You look like crap; you're running a fever and whatever that is on your shoulder smells off.’ Gibbs lightly prodded his upper arm making him flinch.

‘I’m staying right here’ his eyes locked with Gibbs in fury, his feet firmly planted ready for the argument.

‘I get it you're feeling over-protective, you guys have been through a lot together, I look forward to reading the report, but you need to get checked out. He’s her husband, he’s here now-,’

‘He gets nowhere near her’ he growled savagely.

‘Easy Torres, I don’t like the guy either but-,’

‘She caught him cheating on her …again’ he spat through gritted teeth.

‘She _knows_ then?’ Gibbs puffed out a sigh and tilted his jaw angrily. ‘It took us a while to find him, phone switched off, staying with a woman in North Bethesda’

‘I just need five minutes with him’ his fists curled tightly in preparation.

_That’s all it would take to teach the dick a deliciously painful life lesson about hurting Ellie._

Nick could feel a fiery ball of fury licking around in the centre of his chest, searing his lungs.

‘Torres, I’m sure Bishop is upset that he’s cheating but that’s no reason to…’ he looked at his face and his eyes narrowed. ‘There’s _more_ isn’t there?’ the older man surmised astutely.

Nick didn’t answer, it wasn’t his secret to tell, but his silence spoke volumes to Gibbs.

‘He doesn’t get near her’. Gibbs nodded and casually pulled a chair over to the doors through which the medical team had taken Ellie, clearly taking up point duty to guard her.

_Jake would never touch her again._

Nick’s own injury was worse than he realised. He needed minor surgery to wash out the suppurating wound and debride the non-viable tissue. The knifepoint had nicked his humerus, so they insisted on flooding him with IV antibiotics fearing he’d develop osteomyelitis, because he never could do things by halves apparently.

 _Go big or go home, huh_?

Gibbs visited him post-op and the following day, letting him know Sloane was with Ellie, that she was fine, that her surgery went well, no complications and that she was sleeping a lot. He also informed him that Jake had apparently left, without seeing her.

Nick puffed out a sigh of relief, finally relaxing his fighting muscles and Gibbs kept his mind busy, filling him in on how they had managed to find them.

When Nick and Ellie hadn’t reported in, the team had gone to the bank manager’s house and found his body and evidence of a struggle. Jimmy and Kasie lifted the driver’s DNA, now identified as Billy Dixon, from the blood splatter of the nosebleed inflicted by Ellie in the garage. They also found the body of Daryl Mason, his accomplice, the guy who had pistol-whipped Nick. They tracked the car they were taken in via traffic cams along I-66 until the Highway 48 mountain turnoff but then the storm was in full-swing, power was out, and the roads were impassable for days. McGee traced the robbers’ shack through a convoluted paper-trail involving their great-aunt, they just needed a break in the weather to organise a search.

‘We found the car in the pond but also the sawn-through cables, so we knew you got out, Kasie confirmed the prints and blood was yours and Bishop’s. We used bloodhounds to track you guys from there. We found the dead guys and the money. I didn’t know what we’d find opening up that cabin, that was a lot of blood she lost’.

_Too many close calls._

Nick’s stomach still rolled every time he thought about it. He filled Gibbs in on their side of the story, praising Ellie for taking out two and injuring the third hoodlum and about them hunkering down in the cabin during the worst of the storm…carefully avoiding personal details and …events and finally the endgame.

‘You did good Torres, you both did’ his usually stoic boss told him proudly.

Gibbs promised to come back in the morning, drive him back to DC as soon as he was released despite his protestations that he was staying until Bishop was going home too.

It had been two days since he had seen or spoken to Ellie and he felt like he was in withdrawals with the need to be with her, to know first-hand she was ok. Neither of them had replacement phones yet, but McGee had a courier delivering two new secure cells that evening. Sweet-talking his nurse into disconnecting his IV line, he dressed in the USMC tracksuit and trainers Gibbs had left him, he was _so_ done with wearing the hospital-issue, backless, ass-revealing gown, and made his way up to Ellie’s hospital room on the third floor barely able to contain his impatient eagerness to see her.

He knocked gently on the door but getting no response he cracked it a little and called out, ‘Bishop, just me, you decent?’. With still no reply he opened the door wide to find an empty, freshly made-up bed. Catching the attention of the first nurse that passed he tried to keep the anxiety from his voice.

‘Excuse me, um, room 312, Eleanor Bishop, has she been moved?’

‘No sir, she discharged herself a couple of hours ago, left with her next of kin.’

‘Next of kin? Was it her husband, Jake Molloy?’

‘I’m sorry I can’t give you that information, but he was a tall, sandy-haired guy, he wheeled her out, said he was family’ the nurse seemed unconcerned.

Nick just nodded. He felt sick as nervous apprehension blasted through his veins.

Had Jake talked her into discharging herself early, manipulating her in her fragile condition into taking him back, _again_?

_She wouldn’t, would she?_

Then he remembered, she didn’t even have a mobile phone.

Coercive controllers were insidious, they need to dominate and dictate, and Jake reeked of narcissistic arrogance of his own importance.

_I should have fucking killed him when I had the chance!_


	14. Never give up.

Ellie woke up sore, thirsty and half-blinded by the harsh, overhead electric lighting. Her meandering morphine-filled mind pondered that she had spent a week by candlelight, totally unplugged from the modern world and, apart from the drama of kidnapping and near-death experiences, it had been perfect!

‘Hey Bishop, how are you feeling?’ Jack yawned as she closed the book she’d been reading and stretched her arms above her head, obviously kinked and stiff from sitting in one of the universally present yet ridiculously uncomfortable hospital armchairs beside her bed.

‘I’m ok I guess,’ Ellie tried to form logical thoughts until the only question that mattered burst from her.

‘Where’s Nick? Is Nick ok?’ The hair on her arms bristled as she rapidly speculated on the possible reasons why he wasn’t sitting beside her, none of them good.

Jack smiled knowingly as she hastily reassured her, ‘Relax, he’s fine, had some issues with his shoulder wound being infected and all, but he’s out of surgery-,’

‘ _Surgery_?’ she gasped jumping forward in the bed and hissed as a bolt of pain to shot through her thigh.

‘Yeah, _minor_ surgery to clean up the wound, he’s fine, IV treatments and sleep and he’ll be good as new. And you?’

‘I’m good Jack, sore but ok’ the burning in her thigh was now on a low simmer rather than the searing fire she had tried to hide from Nick back in the cabin. She took a sneak peek under the sheets and found her leg still attached, _just a nightmare so_ , but bandaged in pristine dressings from her groin to just above her knee. ‘So how much trouble are we in with Gibbs?’. She mentally ran through how many of his rules they had flagrantly bent and broken in just one week.

‘He’s been like a bear with a thorn in his ass since you guys were taken; seriously, I was considering humane euthanasia, for all our sakes! He, _we_ , were worried, Ellie. We really didn’t think you guys made it and four days passed before we could even start tracing you with the snowstorm’, she uttered in her understated way that let Ellie know things had looked truly dire. ‘He’s slightly less feral now you’re both ok,’

‘So why are you here Jack, not that it’s not lovely to see you but, _jeez_ is that 11 am or pm, and _where_ is here?’ she quizzed her friend, desperate to fill in the blanks.

‘Harrisonburg Trauma Centre, 11 pm Saturday night, you’ve slept over 24 hours, mostly drug-induced but you lost a lot of blood. The fatigue should reduce now you’ve had a couple of units of blood’ Ellie just bobbed her head to that information; she had known by Nick’s reaction to her injury in the woods that it was bad.

‘Gibbs asked me to sit with you, so here I am. Actually he ordered me to pull protection detail. Any idea what that’s all about? He was even more enigmatic than usual’ Jack’s forehead creased as she raised her eyebrows curiously.

‘Yeah I might have one idea’ she murmured cagily. Gibbs had probably found out Jake was cheating again, and he was mad last year the _first_ time, with a repeat offence he would be murderous.

But why set a protection detail on her when it was _Jake_ that probably needed protecting?

Right away she wondered what Nick had said about the _other_ stuff. Surely he wouldn’t betray her confidence? Anxiety started to gnaw at her stomach as her ‘real world’ issues plagued her mind already. Her distress must have been plain to see.

‘Want to talk about it?’ Jack asked gently.

‘Nope, not yet’ she shook her head emphatically, ‘but I promise I will’ she finally conceded, biting her lip nervously under Jack’s penetrating gaze. ‘I think you can probably pencil me in for _several_ sessions’ she added wryly.

‘Ellie?’ Jack’s tone was concerned; it was obvious something stressful was brewing and it was her job to provide support. And she was a friend.

‘I’m working through some stuff, big decisions’ she tried to shake off her rising nervous tension and changed the subject. ‘Does my family know I’m ok?’

‘Yeah, Gibbs informed your mom, who informed your brothers. They were going nuts over the past week calls, texts, more calls. There were no flights for days, everything is crazily backlogged. Oh, and he told your husband, I’m sure he’ll be here soon’

Ellie sucked in her breath; she really didn’t want to see Jake yet.

Jack tilted her head to the side and her face assumed that open, probing look that she used to coax patients into spilling their beans. Ellie wasn’t falling for it though.

‘Gibbs said Jake was in the emergency room yesterday evening just after you arrived in, but he got called away back to DC while you were still in surgery’ she was deliberately prodding her, hoping for a reaction but Ellie just nodded and mm-hummed evasively.

Abstractedly she wondered what or _who_ was so important back in DC that a husband would leave his wife without seeing her after she was missing for a week and having been shot but really she didn’t care.

She was ok and so was Nick.

She encouraged Jack to head back to her hotel, the hospital being almost three hours from DC and she and Gibbs were going to be staying local until both patients were ‘out of the woods’, a term that made Ellie bark out a laugh. Ellie didn’t tease about _their_ sleeping arrangements when her own over the past week were dubious at best, instead, she urged her to go rest, especially as the nurse came in just then with another shot of analgesia and she would doze off herself any minute. Jack refused of course; blustery Gibbs must have been very rigid with his order!

The next time she woke was sometime early the following morning, before breakfast anyway because she was starving. Gibbs handed her a bag of mixed doughnuts and watched her eat them with her usual delighted enthusiasm for food. He told her Nick was being short-tempered and pig-headed, pissed at still being on bedrest and IV medications, though he was due to be discharged the next day. Ellie relaxed a little; stroppiness meant he was on the mend and getting discharged meant he could come to visit her. Without phones, there had been no direct contact between them and that was …hard. Gibbs was on his way up to call in on him next.

She missed Nick, but wasn’t going to ask Gibbs to carry that message to him!

About midmorning, as Sloane had gone to get them both coffees and more pastries, a harried-looking nurse popped her head in ‘Agent Bishop, your husband called _again_. He’s getting very insistent with the staff, demanding that he wants to talk with you’.

‘Um, I’m sorry, can you tell him I’m asleep? I just don’t feel up to that yet, I-,’Ellie could hear her beeping heart monitor rate soar at even the mention of Jake and his ‘insistent demands’

‘No need to explain, patient confidentiality prevents us from giving information over the phone and you need your rest, doctor’s orders’ she replied with a tight, perceptive smile, no doubt with her years of experience she had sussed out the telltale signs of a ‘difficult’ marital situation. Trying to relax her mind she picked up one of the magazines Jack had left her and flicked through it aimlessly until she gave up with an exasperated huff. 

Ellie manoeuvred herself out of bed and using her crutches she hopped to the bathroom, it was exhausting and sweat damped her armpits and brow, but she was still delighted she had managed it herself. As she laboriously hauled herself back into bed and adjusted her leg up on the pillows, a panicked student nurse poked her head around her door.

‘I’m so sorry Ms Bishop, I tried to stop him, but he insisted he’s family-’.

An outlined masculine shadow appeared in the frosted glass panel of the doorframe and her stomach sank.

******

Nick all but sprinted back to his room, his head exploding in thoughts and fears.

_Ellie was gone!_

He needed to call Gibbs; he’d have to convey how concerned he was about her without divulging too much information. He paced for a couple of minutes around his room, raking his fingers through his hair until he had a formula of words that he thought would cover all bases, then asking at the nurse’s station for the patient phone, he quickly dialled out the number he knew by heart.

‘Gibbs we’ve got a problem, I think Jake has… _taken_ Bishop’ he blurted rapidly, shunning all the social niceties.

‘Slow down Nick, what’s wrong?’

‘Ellie’s gone, discharged, against medical advice, with Jake…she’s not-, it’s not in her best interests’ he finished tersely, hoping Gibbs would read into that as he should.

‘Nick! It can’t be Jake, he’s busy in DC, I made sure of it. We look after our own Torres, you know that.’ he finished ominously.

‘Then _who_ Gibbs?’ he shouted at his boss as fear fogged his brain. ‘Someone convinced her to leave-, wait hold up’. Nick felt an insistent tug at his sleeve and a turned to see a young nurse holding an envelope, and after she confirmed his identity, she apologised for the delay in getting it to him. His name was written on it in Ellie’s loopy writing.

‘Boss I'll call you back’ he felt like he had swallowed a bucket load of needles and pins as he tore the note open.

_Hi Nick,_

_Just to let you know I’ve gone home for a few days, I’ve some things I have to do._

_The number below is George’s cell, you can get me on that but be warned it’s my brother’s phone, so emergencies only! Send a text when you get your new phone number! _

_We’re driving home, we won’t get there until tomorrow evening._

_Sorry for the short notice, please don’t worry, I’m ok. I'll talk to you when I’m back next weekend._

_Look after you, don’t be grouchy with the nurses!_

_Love Ellie x_

Nick scanned his eyes over the note about a dozen times until finally, his heart rate levelled off. He had just sat back upon his bed rereading it again when Jack arrived.

‘How are you doing there, Nick? You look a little ruffled!’

‘Ellie discharged herself, I got …worried’ he puffed out another relieved huff and tried harder to regain a less frazzled composure.

‘Yeah, I was coming to tell you, she just called me from the road-,’ she held up her hand reassuringly, ‘she’s fine, going home to Oklahoma for a few days is all. Apparently, her brother was already on the way up in like a monster four-wheel-drive truck to be part of the search party and she decided to head home with him. Ellie specifically told me to tell you _not_ to worry but I guess that’s not going to defuse you, huh?’

‘I’m just concerned about her, she’s just over surgery, still recovering and-,’

‘And you’re in love with her’ she finished succinctly.

Nick hid his face behind his hands and roughly scrubbed his scruffy beard ‘and I’m in love with her’ he admitted.

‘And she’s married’ Jack, as ever, got straight to the root of the problem, it hurt like a kick in the nuts!

‘To an _asshole_!’ he blurted out heatedly.

‘Granted, once a cheater and all that! And I just feel like there’s something _off_ with him’ she added carefully with a shrug of her shoulders. ‘But she’s still married to Jake. Ellie is traditional, reserved, loyal to a fault, but I know she has strong feeling for you. I saw you two at that Christmas party, bucketloads of googly eyes! And that was _before_ whatever happened in that cabin’ she winked and as he felt his face heating up she smirked some more. ‘So, give her space, let her work it out. I think it’ll be worth the wait Nick, just don’t push her ok?’

Nick just nodded as he processed what Jack had given him. He could wait and now that he knew she was far away from her dickhead husband he felt a hell of a lot better. He just wished he’d a chance to see her before she left, why the rush?

‘What did Gibbs mean when I spoke to him just now, about Jake, he said ‘we take care of our own?’

‘I have no idea, but I wouldn’t like to be on the wrong side of Gibbs, would you?’ she raised her eyebrows with the patently rhetorical question.

 _No, Gibbs could make life very unpleasant if he was pissed off and he was pissed off with Jake_. Nick basked in the satisfied glow as that thought radiated through him.

Once discharged from the hospital Nick went home and the days tediously crawled by. ‘Resting’ was just _not_ in his DNA. He had been specifically told no gym, no running and nothing physical for at least a week. He had passed the point of being tetchy and had slid down the slope into cantankerousness by the third day, ready to punch something if he saw another rerun episode of _Friends._

Ellie was home, she had texted him to say she was relaxing, recouping and being spoiled rotten by her mom. He kept his return text as platonic as he could manage, unsure if it was a shared phone, just a simple ‘Glad you got home safely, look after you, I’m here if you need me’. He debated with himself for _far_ too long about whether to add an ‘x’ kiss at the end of the message. He wussed out at the last moment and pressed send, sincerely hoping she got her own phone soon.

By Friday he was going out of his mind.

What if she went back to Jake again?

What if she had decided their ‘deal’ in the cabin really was just that? ‘What happens in the cabin stays in the cabin’, he had said that himself for fuck’s sake!

Could he _ever_ work with her again, as just a colleague, after being with her and knowing he’d never get to touch her again?

_That was a hard no!_

His nerves were fried, sleep was elusive, and every waking minute was spent going over things he could, should and would say or do. Being in love with Ellie was torture, but he wasn’t going to quit.

He headed into the office on Friday, happy to complete Sloane’s psych evaluation, all the reports and any documentation they threw at him, anything to keep his mind off her empty desk, the questions that tore through his guts and to quell his frustrated emotions that flittered between longing to see her, misery that she might not choose him, hatred of Jake and despair that she would go back to the bastard; wash, rinse, repeat.

He had just got home with his takeout Chinese dinner, not his usual order but spicy prawn chow mein, extra broccoli, exactly what Ellie had been hankering for when he got another text from the woman herself.

‘Hey, I’m up and walking now! Flight back on Sunday morning’

He shot back a quick reply ‘I can pick you up from the airport, what time do you land?’

‘I’m ok for a lift thanks. Can you come over to mine at maybe 2ish? We should talk, huh?’

‘Ok B, I’ll be there’. His fingers shook as he texted his reply. Of course, Jake would pick her up and they would probably do brunch or whatever smug married people did at the weekend.

And then she would let him down gently and things would go back to how they were before…before like _what_? Like before he ever met her because there was no going back for Nick.

Suddenly he wasn’t very hungry, so he had a beer instead. He really wanted to get completely tanked but he was still on antibiotics and she would roast him alive if he screwed up his recovery. So, he only had the one and mindlessly watched a couple of ‘La Liga’ games eventually falling asleep on the couch.

Knowing he could not spend all day Saturday with the guillotine of rejection hanging over him, he decided to do something constructive. McGee had tracked down the owner of _their_ cabin and Nick decided to visit the guy, Ned Turner, currently stuck at home in Fredericksburg after a hip replacement. He spent the whole afternoon chatting to the garrulous old dude, talking about how he and his wife had bought the cabin years ago, worked on it a little every year, spent holidays and summers there with kids and now grandkids. He even called his wife, Ellen, who was visiting family in Ireland to congratulate her that _finally,_ her crazy prepper tendencies had indeed saved lives in an emergency.

‘I let her have some ‘I told you so’ moments’, Ned whispered with a wink as he held his hand over the receiver, ‘and she’ll dine out on this doozy for the next decade!’ he chortled.

That seemed to be a running joke between them and after forty-eight years of marriage, they were obviously very much still in love.

After the call, Ned adamantly refused all repayment for what they had used while they were in the cabin but he did ask if Nick could maybe drive out to secure it again, check on the propane and water pump, seeing as he himself was out of action for the foreseeable future. He readily agreed and they even ended up watching a soccer match on the TV together. Nick was reluctant to leave the guy knowing he’d be alone with his thoughts for the rest of the night.

*****

‘Eleanor, honey, are you sure you want to go back so soon? Gibbs said to take all the time you need until you’re fully recovered’

It was the third time that day her mom had asked the same question, she was trying everything to delay Ellie from leaving. She had half-expected a call from Gibbs orchestrated by her mom ordering her to stay home.

Ellie limped out to the bathroom and collected her few toiletries she had picked up on the way home and put her medication in her small carry-on bag. Her flight back to DC was at ridiculously early o’clock and her brother Robbie was coming at 3 am to drive her to the airport.

‘Mom, I’m ready. I’m ok. I’ve made my decision, I’m happy with it, it’s time to tell him’

‘What if he-?’

‘It’s a chance I’m going to take mom, and I won’t know anything until I talk it through with him.’

‘Are you sure you couldn’t just call him from here? Break it to him with a bit of distance? With all you’ve told me, I don’t think he’ll take it well… I just _worry_ Eleanor’

‘I know mom, it’s ok, it’s not like before. Look I’ll phone later, and I promise I’ll tell you about the important stuff from now on, no more secrets’

And she meant it.

It had been days of long, hard, deep conversations with her mom, she hadn’t realised just how much she had bottled up until she started to talk but she felt lighter now. She already had George on her side, though he was flabbergasted by her choice he cautiously supported her. She hadn’t told him everything on the long drive home, just enough for him to understand that she would not change her mind.

She had done what she had wanted to do in Oklahoma, now it was time to head home to DC to start over, clean slate.

Ellie steeled herself as soon as she heard the brisk tap on her apartment door. Her heart was in her mouth and nausea swilled about in her stomach knowing how gut-wrenching the next few minutes would be. She had to be clear, emotionless and firm, no matter what, and follow the planned speech she had practised. He would try to talk her around, he’d probably even tell her he loved her, but she had to ignore all his loving, persuasive, sweet-talking words. She had to stick to her guns.

They had no future together.

******

Nick had gone for a run that morning, well a light jog really. It was either that or go completely nuts, drive out to the airport and more or less kidnap her himself as soon as she set foot off the plane. Probably not the best of ideas, so instead he ran, arguing with himself with every footfall that he should fight for her somehow and in the same breath knowing it had to be _her_ choice, she either wanted him or she didn’t.

Simple.

Once home he showered, he unashamedly left his slightly scruffed face alone knowing full well that she had a ‘thing’ for that and dressed in the shirt she liked too.

_Jesus, I’m like a dorky teenager with a crush!_

He forced down one of his protein shakes, swallowing hard past the constricting lump in his throat, no point in facing _this_ on an empty stomach. He had resigned himself to defeat, he would accept her decision, but he had made his own plans to cope with the fallout. The LA offices were looking for agents, year-round sunshine sounded really nice after the last winter storm and it was still only January so there were months of freezing weather to come yet in DC.

_Moving across the country for better weather, yeah, believable Torres!_

He knew he couldn’t stay on Gibbs’s team, working with her everyday would be torture.

He drove over to her apartment and parked up, his feet like lead as he walked down the hallway to her door.

It was then he heard raised voices. Mostly Ellie’s.

And she was mad! The other voice was dickhead’s he was sure.

He paused his hand on the door, knowing eavesdropping was awful but Ellie seemed to be ok, so he let her roll without interruption. She needed to say what she needed to say.

‘Call off your attack dogs Ellie, this has gone far enough’ Jake’s irritating voice had Nick’s hackles up in seconds.

‘I’ll say it again Jake, I have no idea what you are talking about’

‘Someone made calls, I’m being audited on all my cases and now I’ve been told I’m getting redeployed to the Data Centre in fucking _Utah_! You told that boss of yours to do it, didn’t you!’

‘I did no such thing; if you pissed off Gibbs that’s on you, Jake. Now, you made your choice, and I’ve made mine. Go, be with Taylor’

‘Taylor?’ Nick heard the guy gulp from his side of the door. _Bazinga!_

‘I _know_ Jake, you didn’t really split up from her last year, did you? Gibbs found you at her house last week’ Ellie called him out scathingly.

‘What about _you_? Everyone knows you were fucking that Neanderthal in that cabin, found _naked_ in bed together! Don’t even try to deny it. Your father must be turning in his grave!’

‘Do _not_ use that language with me and don’t you dare bring my dad into this’ Ellie’s voice was ominously low.

‘What, do you want me to say you were ‘making love’ to the fucking caveman?’

‘Well, it’s accurate and it was _amazing_ , and I’d happily do it again, _every_ day, _twice_ on Sundays!’

Nick’s breath whooshed out of his chest at that declaration. Knowing she was breaking up with Jake had been a massive relief, but this revelation was on a whole other level. He put a lid on his elation though, maybe she only used that as ammunition in an obviously nasty slinging match.

‘Ellie sweetie, he probably only fucked you out of boredom, a situation not improved by fucking you by the way’. Nick felt his hands curling into fists.

‘Are you about done Jake? Because I’m done with this and he’ll be here soon’

‘Oh my god, you're in love with him, aren’t you?’ Nick could almost taste the mockery in Jake’s tone through the wood of the door.

‘Yes,’ she answered firmly, without hesitation. Nick’s eyes stung with tears of simultaneous relief and euphoria.

‘Does he love you?’ the guy actually sounded distraught!

_Not so cocky now are you, Jake!_

‘I don’t know, I hope so. But either way, _we’re_ done. You’ll get the papers from my lawyer this week, the divorce will be quick and uncontested. We have no kids, no shared property, I want _nothing_ from you, take your stuff and leave’ she instructed him defiantly.

‘I’m not going anywhere, you're my wife’ Nick heard the menacing tone and tried to control the spitting fireball of rage that whorled in his chest.

‘No, I’m not, not anymore. Take your hand _off_ me Jake’

That was it. Nick busted through the door with his good shoulder and took two strides placing himself squarely in front of Ellie protectively. Only then did it register with him that a stunned Jake was holding his nose, currently gushing with blood and Ellie shaking out her fist, her face scrunched up in pain.

‘Nick!’ she cried delightedly, and the beaming look she gave him was liquid sunshine. Nick could only barely flash her a quick smile back as Jake suddenly swung a low blow, landing a flank punch on him that almost winded him.

_Oh, now it’s game on!_

Without thinking, Nick jabbed him hard on the chin knocking him backwards and sending him stumbling across the parquet floor. A savage growl escaped him as every bit of frustration and anxiety he’d been drowning in over the past weeks switched to burning fury which thrummed through his every vein. He grabbed Jake by the throat thrusting him hard enough against the kitchen wall to shatter teeth.

‘Hear it, _know_ it, I will kill you if even your shadow touches her again!’ he hissed between clenched teeth. When Jake sneered at him, he drew his fist back all set to hammer the prick into the next life. He felt Ellie’s hand stalling him, her voice calling him back to himself.

‘Don’t Nick, it’s done. Don’t give him what he wants’

Nick managed a nod, released his grip and stood back as the asshole fell to the floor and squirming away nervously, eyeing up Nick’s fists until he unclenched them.

Nick felt her tiny fingers worming their way into his hand and instantly his temper dissipated. Ignoring the idiot on the floor, he turned to Ellie and gave her a quick check over to make sure she was ok.

‘Did he hurt you?’ he asked examining her other hand for damage.

‘Nope, but I may have broken his nose’

He chuckled and brushed his lips gently over her slightly swollen knuckles.

‘Put some ice on that’ he glanced up at her smiling face and his heart swelled. ‘That his stuff?’

‘Yup, that’s it’. Nick picked up the hold-all with one hand and hauled up the protesting Jake by his shirt front with his other. ‘My turn to take out the trash’.

‘Nick!’ she gave a warning grumble as she added several vowels to his name. ‘Don’t hit him, please’

‘I won’t, just a little chat, Scout’s honour!’

‘You weren’t a Scout Nick’ she pouted shrewdly.

He just winked back at her with one of his best cheeky smiles that brought a rosy blush to her face.

‘Take your filthy hands off me or I’ll sue’ Jake spat at him brazenly, annoyed at being ignored while a whole other conversation seemed to be going on silently over his head.

‘Yeah, good luck with that, if you think Gibbs is pissed now, just try it. And I have my own ways of sorting my problems. All of them direct, none of them pleasant. Now, am I going to walk you out the front door or help you fly out that window?’ he pointed to the two options, hoping Jake would kick off so he could choose the latter. ‘Either way, you’re leaving’

Jake roughly shrugged Nick’s grip off him and fixed his jacket contemptuously. He snatched the bag out of Nick’s hand and marched out of the apartment without a backward glance to Ellie, Nick shadowing him to make sure he found his way out.

‘It’s not a good look you know’ Jake bit out as they made their way out of the building, ‘moving in on a married woman when she was injured and vulnerable, filling her head with romantic bullshit, she would have fucked you anyways’

‘Shut your mouth Jake or I’ll cheerfully rip your tongue out’ he had long since run out of nerves for Jake to get on. His jaw ached from clenching.

‘You’ll get bored of her like I did, she’s like fucking a corpse’ he sneered, his lip curled back to reveal his perfectly straight teeth, and Nick had to recite the Spanish Hail Mary to keep from thumping him so hard he’d need a colonoscopy to find them again. Jake opened his car and threw in his bag of stuff angrily, obviously frustrated he wasn’t getting the public violent outburst he wanted.

‘She’ll always come back to me’ he taunted in his poisonous upper-class voice.

Nick stood toe to toe with him, forcing the jerk back against the door of his car. He crossed his arms, flexing out his bulging muscles and set his jaw, locking Jake in an eyeballing contest he knew for damn sure he would win. He waited until Jake dropped his leer.

_Yeah, know your place dickhead!_

‘Ellie asked me not to hit you and I respect her wishes. That is the only thing keeping your face from being pulverised right now. I meant what I said upstairs. Stay away from her. Sign the papers. Or you’ll answer to me’

Point made Nick turned on his heel and walked back up to Ellie’s apartment feeling a million times better than when he had arrived less than an hour before. Tapping lightly at the door that would need repairing, he popped his head in to find Ellie breathing heavily and sipping on a glass of water.

‘You ok?’

‘Yeah, better seeing you, um how much of that did you hear?’ she started a lopsided limp over to the sofa and he rushed to help her.

‘I heard enough’ he answered her mildly and once she was comfortable on the couch, he got her another glass of water; she looked pale again.

He sat down gingerly beside her not really knowing where to start.

‘The past few days I’ve been worried sick about you, you left the hospital AMA with ‘next of kin’ and I thought…’

‘You thought I was with Jake’ she surmised apologetically. ‘When they said I had a family visitor, I thought it was Jake too, he had been bullying the nurses to talk to me but it was George and I needed to go home anyway so we just left. Jack told me this morning when she picked me up from the airport that you were stressing. Sorry for scaring you’ she twisted her fingers in her lap avoiding his eyes.

‘You could have stayed with me, or with any of the team’, he added hastily, ‘if you were…nervous. You didn’t have to go so far away only a couple of days after being shot!’

‘I had stuff I had to do back home’ she shrugged, not denying the fact that she was nervous around Jake.

_The fucker had gotten away lightly._

‘Urgent stuff?’ he probed carefully, watching as her shoulder slowly dropped from their tense position up around her ears.

‘Yep, I um, went home to visit my dad’s grave. We had a chat’ she peeked a look at him to see if he would make a joke of that, of course he didn’t, Nick had a firm belief in the presence of the dearly departed, so he nodded understandingly. ‘Then I had a proper, long overdue talk with my mom’ she huffed out a breath like her lungs were compressed.

‘And?’

‘I’m getting the divorce I should have got last year, longer ago than that if I'm honest’ she added ruefully. Clearing her throat nervously she changed the subject.

‘So, what’s been going on while I was away?’

‘Reports, debriefs, you’ll have loads of that crap when you’re back at work. Oh, and I went to see the owner of the cabin’ he filled her in on his day before, omitting his absolute head-melting angst at not knowing how today would pan out.

He still didn’t know but he had to know now.

_It’s now or never, now or never!_

‘He’s actually thinking of selling up, his kids live abroad and he’s getting on, he asked me if I wanted the first refusal, for a song really, and I um, said I might’.

‘ _I_ would for sure!’ she answered enthusiastically ‘snow-globe fantasy, remember?’ her cheeks bloomed in a rosy glow. ‘I’ll Chopathon or snowball fight you for it?’ she challenged him playfully.

‘Definitely snowballs…or we could just share it?’

‘What, like _buy_ it together? Wow!’ she blew out her cheeks her eyebrows lifting up to her hairline as the magnitude of his suggestion sunk in.

_Now or never Torres!_

‘It’s just a cabin, it’s not like it’s our _family home_ , we’d have to put more thought into that, huh? Nice neighbourhood, a room for your art studio, maybe a gym for me, good schools for the kids, yard for the dog…’

‘Dog?’

‘Oh yeah definitely a dog, golden retriever maybe, they’re good with kids. Oh, you're not a cat-only person, are you? Cos that would be a deal-breaker’ he tutted with theatrical regret.

‘I like dogs’ she muttered with a fuzzy, slightly stunned look.

‘Great, so it’s all sorted! So, the cabin can be like our holiday house to getaway together, and when you want, we can maybe work on the forever home to live together. And I do by the way’

‘You do what?’ she asked in confusion.

‘Love you, Ellie Bishop. I love you, so I’m going to be here, take whatever time you need, if you want to wait till after the divorce, I’ll still be here. I just thought I should maybe put my cards on the table in case you were in any doubt of what _I_ want. But I promise, no pressure B, as long-,’

‘I don’t need time Nick; I just need you!’ she all but dived forward, her lips finding his like she was starved of him for far too long. She screwed up fistfuls of his shirt to pull him closer and he didn’t object, he just shuffled closer until he had her wrapped in his arms and she drew back ensuring she had his full attention.

‘Nick, I, love, you’ She kissed him after each word, deeper and fuller each time until they blended into hungry, lingering, open-mouthed kisses.

A while later, both struggling for breath, with chests heaving, he held her flushed face, his warm thumbs wiped away her errant tears from her cheeks.

‘I missed waking up with you’ he confessed softly.

‘Well that’s something we can easily remedy’ she replied with another slow and gentle kiss, she was glowing now that they had shared their declaration of love, each tender kiss washing away the months of hurt and doubt and regret.

And then she changed her mind, hot, passionate kisses were necessary. In urgent need to be closer to each other Ellie started tearing at his clothes needing to feel his skin against her own. Smiling while his mouth still kissed hers, he felt her hands tugging at the buckle of his jeans.

‘Can I at least date you first?’

‘Yeah, we can date, it’ll be a couple of weeks before my leg is better, that time enough?’ She was running her teeth over her lower lip, her eyes full of mischief and seduction.

‘I’m sure I can be inventive in the meantime, starting _now_ maybe?’ He pulled her up from the sofa and waltzed her in his arms towards the bedroom.

‘ _No_ , stop!’ she blurted suddenly horrified at their trajectory.

He froze, panic-stricken; he knew he had moved too fast.

_So much for taking it slow Torres, you idiot!_

‘Not _here_ , I’m waiting for a new bed and stuff to be delivered’ she squirmed in embarrassment. ‘Is it ok if I stay at yours, for a few days. I want a fresh start here, well until my lease is up in a couple of months, then maybe we can talk…’ her voice faltered as she threw out the suggestion.

‘About getting a place together until we…?’ he finished for her enthusiastically

‘Yeah, Nick, a place together until we... find something permanent sounds amazing’. He really wanted to continue kissing her into oblivion but the thought of having her at home in his own bed won out. She went to throw some stuff in a bag and Nick fixed up the door he had smashed through.

‘By the way, I kinda promised Ned I’d head out to secure the cabin next weekend, do you think you could manage that, the walk from the nearest car-accessible point is a mile as he explained it’ he called through to her in the bedroom dubiously.

‘The weather report said snow’ she called back.

‘ _Perfec_ t!’ they both chimed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for all the comments and feedback! This one took a while, busy family and work life for the past few weeks!  
> Hope you all like it!  
> Cheers xxx


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